


Something Supernatural

by xobarriers



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Bandom Big Bang, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-27 04:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21386134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xobarriers/pseuds/xobarriers
Summary: Frank just wants to go back to college. He wants to have another normal year of hard classes and late nights, to hang out with the friends he's made on campus, and to eat more shitty cafeteria food than any one person can safely fit into their diet.He doesn't want to be assigned a new, creepy roommate, and hedefinitelydoesn't want to discover that all the flowers on campus burn his skin like acid whenever he touches them.Everything gets even stranger in the next week, and Frank's religious beliefs are absolutely decimated. It's hard to keep your status as an atheist when you're playing couple's therapist for two ageless beings and watching an ancient god rise from the earth, after all.On the bright side, he's always wanted to use a legit sword. And those two ageless beings are pretty hot. He'll take all the positives he can get.
Relationships: Bert McCracken/Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Bert McCracken, Frank Iero/Bert McCracken/Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 18
Kudos: 68





	Something Supernatural

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I want to extend a gigantic shout out to my complement creator, [venomwolves](https://venomwolves.tumblr.com)!! Their art is phenomenal and they were one of my favorite artists even before they claimed this fic. Working with them has been an amazing experience, and I consider myself lucky to have had this chance. You're the best! 
> 
> I also want to say thank you so much to my wonderful beta reader/best friend [coffinz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffinz/profile), also known as Oliver. This fic wouldn't be nearly as structured and coherent without him. Thanks so much for believing in this story, dude. This one's for you, and I owe you one.
> 
> Title from Born to Quit by The Used

Go show this art some love at [this post!](https://venomwolves.tumblr.com/post/189272073833/its-hard-to-keep-your-status-as-an-atheist-when)

Frank is no stranger to weird roommates. He’s had plenty of them in the past, but he’s starting to think that none of them hold a single candle to the young man currently sprawled across the bed pressed against the opposing cinderblock wall of the cramped  
dorm room. 

The man has thick, choppy black hair that curls around his ears and on the nape of his neck. He’s wearing the tightest pair of jeans Frank has ever seen, a truly awesome pair of combat boots, and a silk blouse open halfway down his chest, the fiery red of the smooth material standing out against his incredibly pale skin. His side of the dorm room is completely undecorated and looks totally empty. And he’s staring at Frank.

Under normal circumstances, Frank wouldn’t mind a cute guy checking him out— because, come on, there’s no doubt that this man is attractive. But every minute of open, unashamed staring that passes is freaking him out more and more. It feels… off. 

He really doesn’t know how else to describe it but ‘off’. The stare is eliciting a string of goosebumps along his arms and up onto his neck. He shivers slightly and hunches against the wall, hoping that his new roommate will finally look away or say something. Typically, Frank would have introduced himself as soon as the man arrived, but his ability to speak up seems to have disappeared. He hates that. Hates being unable to open his mouth.

Finally, the man’s stare shifts and he sits up. “So,” he says conversationally, voice smooth and pitched higher than Frank had expected it to be. He has a hint of a Jersey accent that, despite himself, makes Frank feel at home. “I take it you’re my roommate this semester.”

Frank wants to roll his eyes, but something in his subconscious warns him and he just nods. “Yeah,” he stammers, pissed at how breathy and soft he sounds in that moment. “I’m Frank. Iero. I’m a junior. You?”

“Gerard Way,” he responds, an almost imperceptible smirk creeping across his face. “Also a junior.”

That’s all the man - Gerard - says before he resumes his unbroken gaze. Frank looks down at his bed, rubbing his fingers against the worn Star Wars sheets in a nervous gesture.

Several minutes pass, and Frank reaches a point where he can’t take Gerard’s eyes on him for a moment longer. He pushes himself to his feet, quickly bending to lace up his tattered sneakers. “I’m going for a walk.”

Gerard chuckles and rolls onto his side to face the ugly beige wall. Frank almost trips over his rug on the way out.

As soon as Frank steps into the hallway, his unease fades away. It feels like a physical weight off his shoulders. He lets out a long sigh and closes his door. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he shoots one last glance at his room and starts downstairs.

The hot, muggy breeze outside his dorm building kills the goosebumps that had still been coating his arms and the back of his neck. He sidesteps a guy carrying an armload of textbooks and heads down the sidewalk, circling his dorm building. God, it’s pretty there. Ivy crawls up the cracked brick walls, clumps of flowers planted haphazardly along the walkway filling the hot breeze with their heady aroma. The ground is just as sandy as he remembers it to be. The Gulf Shores aren't far from the university, less than ten minute's drive, so he can smell hints of salt in the air, contrasting with the scent of the flowers. The cement sidewalk comes to an end and is replaced by gravel that crunches underneath his sneakers and threatens to twist his ankles if he doesn't watch his step. He has missed walking there- missed the incessant chirping of insects in the trees and the occasional harsh cry of a gull straying from the ocean. 

In a way, walking behind his dorm feels safer than being anywhere else. Frank can’t quite place why that is. The weird atmosphere from inside has disappeared as quickly as the bumps on his arms. He can practically taste the salty tang to the air that fills his lungs, and the flowers are blooming stronger than ever. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he kneels to pick one, the thin stem easily breaking into pieces in his hand and leaving a shiny nub behind. He stands and examines the flower. Now that it is up close, he notices that the petals that had sprouted purely white the previous year now boast charcoal streaks corkscrewing out from the pale yellow center in a vein-like pattern. Frank shrugs and continues to walk, the flower dangling from his closed fingers. 

He quickly stops walking as he feels a wave of burning pricks in his hand. He drops the flower and frowns. The broken stem has left what looks like a friction burn across his palm, the red marks stained with chlorophyll and the same charcoal color that had covered the flower. Frank stares at the burn in bewilderment. Only his luck would leave him developing an allergy over the summer to a flower. 

Frank curses quietly under his breath and returns to the dorm, cradling his throbbing hand against his chest. He isn’t at all excited to face Gerard again, but the stinging pain in his palm is more than enough of an incentive to go inside.

Frank closes the door behind him, turning and making a soft noise of surprise as he sees Gerard’s face right in front of his. Gerard ignores the noise and holds out a hand. 

“What is this?” Gerard asks, pulling Frank’s injured hand away from his chest. “What happened?”

He scowls and jerks his arm back before he can process what’s happening. “I dunno. Allergic reaction, or something. I picked a flower and it burned me.”

Gerard’s eyes meet Frank’s for a split second before he’s being tugged into the bathroom. Gerard sticks his hand under the sink, turning on the faucet and sending a cold stream of water over the burn mark. He then turns and grabs a washcloth. 

Frank knows his mouth is gaping. He closes it quickly. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” comes the snappy reply. “What kind of flower was it?”

“I don’t know, am I supposed to be able to identify flowers?” Frank says in response, tone pissed. Finally he regains his ability to speak in front of Gerard, and it’s while the guy is busy taking care of him. Go fucking figure.

“What did it look like, then? I’ll do the identification if you can do the describing,” Gerard says mildly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Or is that too hard for you, too?”

Frank’s eyes narrow. “It was white. Sorta shaped like a lily, but smaller. Three petals. I think it might’ve been contaminated, or some shit; last year these flowers were completely white and this year they have, like, black veins in them. Also. Don’t fucking poke fun at me. I’m not a total idiot, despite what you seem to think.”

He holds up his hands like he’s surrendering, the slight smile on his face growing. He wets the washcloth he’s holding and presses it against Frank’s palm. “Okay, okay. Mind taking me to see these flowers?”

Frank pulls the washcloth from Gerard’s grip and frowns, staring down at his injury. “Yeah, I guess. Why the hell do you want to see them? They’re just flowers.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I wanted them for an ancient summoning ritual?” Gerard responds teasingly. “Nah, come on, I just wanna see the veins. I’m really into botany.”

“Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised,” Frank mumbles, avoiding Gerard’s gaze. “Fine. They’re behind the dorm building, so we’ll need to walk outside for a bit.”

“I can handle a little heat,” Gerard says, smile widening into a full blown smirk. “It’ll be fun! Our first adventure together.”

“And hopefully our last,” he mutters. “Follow me, I guess.”

Frank decides fairly rapidly that walking outside with Gerard feels totally different than walking outside alone. Gerard keeps up a running commentary on the people he sees, and Frank hates how it makes him want to laugh. This guy is creepy. He refuses to like his company.

“Here they are,” Frank says finally as they approach the clump of white flowers. The black veins in them seem even more obvious now. “Weird, right?”

“I’ve seen weirder,” Gerard replies absentmindedly, reaching out to touch a flower.

“Wait! Bad idea,” Frank interjects, tugging Gerard’s hand back. “Remember what happened to me when I picked one? It’s bad shit. Don’t touch.”

He smirks at Frank and straightens up, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re cute. Don’t worry about me. Can I see your hand again?”

His face flushing a soft red, Frank shows Gerard his palm. The burn looks even worse now. More alarming than the inflammation, however, is the black stain that seems to be spreading outwards from the wound in the same veinlike pattern on the flowers. 

“Shit,” Gerard says, his tone matter-of-fact and curious. He turns back to the flowers. “These are Trillium.”

“Excuse me?”

“The flowers. They’re called White Trillium. They definitely aren’t supposed to have these black marks, in case you’re wondering.”

Frank swallows nervously and glances down at his hand. “So- what does that mean? Any idea what’s wrong with me?”

Gerard is entirely unconvincing when he responds. “Eh, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just sleep it off or something.”

“Should I, like, go see the nurse on campus? I really don’t like the look of this.”

“No,” Gerard says immediately. “No. You’re fine. Just come inside.”

Frank frowns at him, a thread of suspicion taking root in the back of his mind. “If you don’t know what’s going on, why would you say I shouldn’t go to the nurse? Wouldn’t it always be a good idea to get an injury like this checked?”

“You’re totally overreacting, Frank,” Gerard murmurs, stepping closer. His eyes are wide and soft and a beautiful hazel color. Frank manages to wonder why he hadn’t noticed them before. “Everything will be okay. Trust me.”

The suspicion vanishes completely, and Frank can barely remember why it had appeared in the first place. “Yeah. Cool. I’ll come inside.”

Frank falls into an uneasy routine during the next week. He goes between class and the dining hall and his dorm room, never once going behind the dorm again. He almost registers that he isn’t nearly as curious as he normally would be, but somehow it doesn’t matter at all. He can’t bring himself to care.

Gerard acts even weirder that week than he did on the day they met. He occasionally corners Frank and changes the bandage on his palm, but otherwise ignores him in favor of reading a set of thrashed books. The books are old enough that Frank can’t make out their titles, but Gerard seems enthralled. He alternates between wearing outfits similar to the one he was wearing the day they met and lounging around in skintight boxers. Frank tries not to stare.

Frank picks up one of the books when Gerard is in the shower. He flips through the pages, curious to see what’s been holding Gerard’s attention. Most of it makes absolutely no sense to him, and the only distinguishable parts seem to describe some sort of fantasy war, so he dismisses it as a strange novel and sets it back in its original position. Gerard glances over at him when he returns, but says nothing.

Gerard doesn’t seem to attend class at all. He either has classes while Frank’s on campus, or his curriculum is entirely online. Frank doesn’t ask which.

His hand hasn’t improved at all by the end of the first week of class, but the spread of the black stain seems to have stalled. It still hasn’t reached the edge of his palm. The burn throbs whenever he attempts to write, though, and playing guitar is out of the question. 

During Frank’s last class on Friday, the pain in his hand spikes to eleven. He gasps and drops his pencil, making a hurried excuse to the teacher as he grabs his bag and stumbles out of the classroom. 

He can’t go to the nurse. He isn’t sure why he knows that, but every cell in his body is screaming at him to stay away from the medical suite in the University Center. He cannot go there. It would mean… his certainty never extends to what would happen if he did go, but he knows that it would be bad.

Frank walks the seven minutes to his dorm instead. Every step causes a wave of pain to shoot into his forearm. He’s covered in sweat by the time he arrives at his room, nearly an hour before he would normally get back.

The moment his door closes behind his back, however, the pain is all but forgotten. His room is dimly lit. The only light comes from several candles scattered haphazardly across the room. He knows that those aren’t allowed, and he has half a mind to lecture Gerard about them, but his gaze falls onto the floor and he abruptly has much more to worry about than a couple of candles. 

His rug has been pushed nearly underneath his bed, making room for the gigantic inky symbol scrawled across the linoleum. The symbol has an odd question mark shape at one corner and is spiky everywhere else. Frank’s never seen anything like it, and he stares at it for a moment without moving. 

He definitely should have moved.

The next thing Frank knows, he’s being pinned against the wall. The light switch is pressing painfully into his shoulder, and he’s sure it’ll leave a bruise. He can’t bring himself to care, though, or to press back against the body crowding him into the rough cinder blocks. His eyes won’t leave the symbol, even as soft, feverishly hot hands twist his arms behind his back. He still can’t look away as one of those hands moves up to rest against his shoulder, gently touching the skin above his collar.

He feels the drag of small, blunted teeth along the side of his neck. The sensation is accompanied by a numbing buzz that spreads outwards and down into his extremities, slowing his pulse and leadening his limbs. It doesn’t alarm him as much as it should.

He hears a quiet laugh from right beside his ear.

“Hey, Frankie. Do you remember when your ninth grade religion professor read the books of Daniel and Revelation in class? Do you remember all those religious horror movies you watched, late at night when you thought your parents were sleeping?”

Frank remembers, and he finally manages to squeeze his eyes shut. The symbol still swims in his vision, glowing in the blackness. 

“They’ve all stayed in your mind for a reason,” the voice murmurs. “Your brain is hardwired to recognize them as important. As truth. And they are, Frank. The scariest stories are always the real ones.”

He bites his lip hard, every inch of his skin buzzing. 

“You grew up a good little Catholic boy. So sweet, so pure. Aren’t you glad you have me, instead of my colleagues? I only represent the white sins, Frankie. The ones that harm nobody but yourself. You’re good at those, aren’t you? I can tell. All your self-hate, your self-deprecation, your doubt- there’s a reason you haven’t been exposed to a worse evil. You’re too good for that. Even Hell knows it.” 

The voice pauses, then comes back with hints of wonder and glee. “Oh, Frankie. You’re busy committing your greatest sin of all. Just look at you. In your mind, I’m like a sexual poison. Everything you’ve ever wanted in your lowest, most carnal moments, and everything you never stooped far enough to crave. I can smell it on you.”

A soft fingertip grazes across his cheek. He can’t deny how much he wants. 

“But I won’t take you,” it whispers. “I won’t touch you. I’ll leave you begging, pleading, needy. I’ll leave you in hell.”

The teeth gently tug at his earlobe. “Be a good boy, Frankie. I’m the one you need to worship.”

The pressure disappears from Frank’s back, and the fevered touch leaves his skin, but he stays against the wall for a moment. He knows that he should feel frightened, but he doesn’t feel a bit of fear. He slowly turns around.

Gerard, because of course it was Gerard, is leaning against the opposite wall. His eyes are dark and he looks amused. 

Before Frank knows what he’s doing, he’s on his knees in front of Gerard, arms still held behind his back. “Please,” he breathes, not entirely certain what he’s asking for. 

Gerard’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth a few seconds before he actually speaks. “Shit, that really affected you that much? I-- here, uh, sit down?”

Frank complies, letting Gerard pull him to sit on the bed. Gerard’s sheets are soft. 

“I’m going to get you some water, okay? Then we can talk,” Gerard mumbles, disappearing into the bathroom. 

He feels the heaviness start to fade from his limbs, and the pain in his hand returns. The stabbing sensation is what finally wakes him from the stupor he had been trapped in, and he stumbles away from Gerard’s bed and takes several deep, shuddering breaths. 

Gerard steps back into the room and Frank fixes him with a stare. “What the fuck did you just do to me?”

Gerard looks relieved and hands Frank a glass of water. “You’re awake, that’s good. Okay, I have a lot to explain. First off, I honestly didn’t mean to fuck with you that much. I’ve done that before and none of the guys ever, uh, actually wanted me badly enough to,” he pauses, “well, offer themselves in the way you did. I--”

“What, so this is my fault now?” Frank responds, his eyes widening incredulously. “You put me in some sort of fucking trance, or something. I couldn’t think, and you’re telling me I offered myself? That was all on you. How the hell did you do it?”

Gerard frowns. “Nobody else has reacted that way. Ever. Not in the past two thousand--” he cuts himself off. “It just doesn’t happen.”

“What are you?” Frank asks, Gerard’s words rekindling the suspicion that has lain dormant in his chest for a week. Gerard, for once, says nothing, so Frank presses again. “Gerard? Answer me.”

He looks down, his demeanor almost shy. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Frankie.”

The nickname reminds Frank of how it sounded when Gerard had him pinned to the wall. He forces the memory from his mind and swallows. “After today? After all week? I walk in on some sort of Satanic ritual, and you hypnotize me with that symbol. I think I’d believe pretty much anything.”

“What do you think I am?” Gerard counters, his smirk returning. 

Frank stares at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? Stop being such a kid and answer. We both know you aren’t normal. Don’t patronize me.”

Gerard’s smirk doesn’t waver. “Nah, I want you to say it.”

Frank rolls his eyes. He doesn’t want to say it. Doesn’t want to sound stupid if he’s wrong, since it’s very possible he’s wrong. “This isn’t fucking Twilight, man. I--”

“Say it, Frankie,” he drawls quietly, stepping a bit closer. 

“I dunno,” Frank hedges, all thoughts of bad teenage fiction leaving his mind as goosebumps crawl over his neck at their proximity. “You aren’t- you’re not exactly human, are you?”

Gerard grins widely. “You’re not as dumb as I thought you were, Frankie. Now come on, you can do better than that. Tell me what you think I am.”

Frank gets caught up in Gerard’s gaze, and he hesitates, feeling like a deer in headlights. “A demon,” he whispers finally, looking away.

The soft fingertips of Gerard’s right hand slide across his jaw. “And does that scare you, Frankie?” His voice is both guarded and teasing. 

He meets Gerard’s eyes. “Should I be scared?”

Gerard, for the second time that day, looks lost for words. He parts his lips.

“Without a doubt.”

Frank and Gerard both whirl around to face the door. It is closed and locked, the same as it has been since Frank entered, but a man is now lounging against the chipping white paint. Frank had thought previously that Gerard's clothes were strange, but this guy's ensemble takes the cake. His pants are showy but look sturdy, made of a dark brown denim-like material with faint silver embroidery covering the large pockets. The thin white fabric of his long sleeved shirt clings to his torso, in a way that is more than a little distracting. A leather vest, decorated with the same silver embroidery that embellishes the pants, is strapped tightly around his waist. He has a short sword hanging at his side, tall leather boots fitted closely around his legs, and fingerless leather gloves with silvery metal plates wrapped around the back of his hands. 

He makes for a stunning sight. Frank can’t help but notice how gorgeous he is, with long, dark waves of hair framing his face and curling against his shoulders. The chill that has been blanketing the room since Gerard’s arrival seems to dissipate. 

“Gerard,” the stranger murmurs mildly. “You should know better than to touch a soul such as this.”

Next to Frank, Gerard has gone pale. “Bert,” he responds, voice equally soft. “Please don’t make me go. You know I can’t fight you on this, and-- this boy is a key. I can feel it.”

“A key?” Frank interjects, then shrinks back when he feels two sets of eyes lock onto him. Bert’s expression doesn’t change, but he can sense waves of anxiety coming from Gerard’s gaze.

“A key,” Bert repeats flatly. He turns his stare to Gerard. “And what do you think the boy is a key for, exactly? We’ve spoken at length about this. I’m not the one who reads minds.”

“Haven’t you felt the ripples?” Gerard whispers. “They keep coursing through Hell. We’re getting scared, Bert. The Deceiver Himself is becoming,” he hesitates, then continues carefully, “concerned.”

“What the Deceiver feels is not my problem,” Bert snaps. “I want you to step away from the boy. He is under my protection.”

“Can both of you shut the fuck up for like, five minutes?” Frank says. An angry flush has begun to creep up over his cheeks. “Who the hell is “the deceiver”? Why are you calling me boy? I’m a fucking adult. I don’t want your protection. I don’t want to be a fucking key, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Either explain shit to me or stop talking about me.”

Bert looks back at Frank, a flash of surprise crossing his face. “My apologies, Frank,” he says easily. “I wasn’t aware our conversation would bother you this much. I’m afraid, however, that I am not at liberty to explain anything to you.”

“Bullshit,” Frank retorts. “You’re some other sort of supernatural thing, yeah? Like Gerard? Trust me, I can handle whatever you don’t wanna tell me.”

Bert turns his head sharply and meets Gerard’s eyes. Gerard looks sheepish. 

“Tell me or get the fuck out,” Frank continues. “I mean it.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Bert responds quietly. “Our affairs are not meant for the ears of humanity.”

Frank clenches his hands into fists, pressing them against his sides. The burn on his palm sparks and sends a slow wave of pain up his arm. He bites back a gasp. “Out,” he repeats, voice strained. 

Bert ignores his order and steps closer, holding out his hand. “You’re in pain. Show me.”

“I’m not showing you shit,” Frank says, his voice low. 

“He showed me,” Gerard pipes up smugly. He has moved away slightly to lean against the wall, his silk shirt gaping open. 

Frank manages to tear his eyes away from Gerard’s pale skin when Bert steps even closer. For the first time, he notices a strange golden collar encircling Bert’s neck. It looks molten, and he’s almost tempted to touch it.

“Give me your hand,” Bert commands. His tone brooks no argument and Frank reluctantly uncurls his fist and holds out his stinging palm.

Bert pulls Frank’s hand closer and gently touches the inflammation, his fingers cool and calloused. “What did this to you?” 

“It was a flower,” Frank says, suppressing a shiver when Bert’s fingertips touch his wrist. “I picked the same flowers last fall and they were white. This year they have black shit all over them. It’s almost like they grew veins, or something. Same type of pattern.”

Bert meets Frank’s gaze. “Veins? I need you to show these flowers to me now.”

Gerard pushes himself off the wall and saunters over, pressing himself against Frank’s side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “He already showed them to me, Bert. They’re just flowers. I couldn’t sense anything inorganic about them.”

“You will show them to me,” Bert says. “I don’t care what Gerard says. Take me to the flowers.”

Frank nods slightly, his head buzzing. Gerard’s body is still feverishly hot against his skin, and Bert’s presence and touch leaves him unable to form a coherent thought. “I’ll take you to the flowers,” he murmurs.

Frank is barely able to complete the short walk from his dorm room to the bank of flowers behind the building. His head spins with every movement and his hand burns so intensely that he has to fight back tears. By the time they reach the flowers, his teeth are chattering and Gerard has to support most of his weight.

Bert finally notices the state that Frank’s in. “Gerard, set him down against the wall,” he instructs quietly. 

Gerard complies, easing Frank into a sitting position with his back to the bricks. He looks worried again. “You’ve gotta help him, Bert, look at him.”

Frank blinks up at Gerard several times before his vision stops swimming and he’s able to focus. 

“How long ago did you pick the flower, Frank?” Bert asks, kneeling in the grass and lifting Frank’s injured hand with gentle fingers. 

“About a week,” he mumbles. “I was gonna go see a nurse, but… I don’t know why, but it seemed like a terrible idea. Like something bad was gonna happen if I showed my hand to anyone but Gerard.”

Bert glances up at Gerard, his mouth thinning out into a hard line. “What did you do to him, Gerard?”

“I didn’t know what it was! If Frank went to the nurse, other people would’ve found out about the flowers! I wanted them to stay hidden so I could study them later. I think they’re connected to the ripples, Bert.”

“You endangered him for a possibility? You think the flowers are connected? You cannot manipulate humans in this way, Gerard!”

“What was I supposed to do, then? What would you have done?” Gerard responds, his voice rising. 

“I would have healed him!”

“I can’t do that! Stop rubbing your fucking morally superior powers in my face! You know I would’ve preferred your lot!”

Frank isn’t certain what they’re arguing about, but he raises a hand in the hopes of stopping them. It takes a dizzying amount of effort. “Please.” He pauses, swallows past the dryness in his throat, and continues. “Please, stop.”

Bert sighs and turns back to him, shushing him quietly. “Frank, I need you to focus on me. Can you do that?”

He nods and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and meeting Bert’s gaze. “Yeah, I, I can do that.”

“Good,” Bert murmurs, setting his palm flat against Frank’s burn. “Keep looking at me. Just like that.”

Frank lets out a soft gasp as every muscle in his body tenses up and then relaxes. The sudden relaxation is accompanied by a numbness that brings relieved tears to the corners of his eyes. Bert holds his hand over Frank’s palm for a few more moments and then removes it, revealing completely unbroken skin.

“What--” Frank breathes, pulling his hand from Bert’s grasp and running the fingers of his other hand over the newly healed skin. If it wasn’t for the absence of the pain he’d been feeling for a week, he wouldn’t believe what he was seeing. “How did you-- what--”

Bert laughs quietly. He sets a hand on Frank’s face and tips it up, gaze scanning him critically. “You’re going to be okay. Can you stand up?”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess so,” Frank stammers, quickly using the brick wall as leverage to push himself up. “What are you, Bert?”

Bert rises as well, giving him a small smile. “I am your guardian. That’s all you need to know for now.”

“Like, an angel?”

Behind them, Gerard snickers.

“Maybe,” Bert responds evenly. “If that’s what you believe me to be.”

“Oh, get off your goddamned high horse,” Gerard pipes up. Bert winces.

“You should know better than to use such… terminology around me, Gerard. Don’t forget the presence you stand in.”

“You’re so fucking dull,” Gerard murmurs, circling Bert and purposefully brushing against his shoulder in a dismissive action. He takes Frank’s hand and raises it to his mouth. His eyes glitter as he presses a soft kiss to Frank’s now uninjured palm. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Frank can feel a wave of heat flood into his cheeks. He looks away from Gerard’s stare but leaves his hand in the demon’s grasp. “Me too.”

Bert grabs Gerard’s collar and jerks him away from Frank. “I’m warning you. If you harm this boy, or lead him astray, I will--”

“Astray?” Gerard says incredulously. “Watch yourself, Bert. Don’t forget whose fault it is that I’m even here right now.”

Bert’s eyes go curiously blank and he steps backwards, his fingers uncurling from the silk of Gerard’s shirt. “Do you blame me for your fall, Gerard?”

He hesitates. “Not entirely. But I blame you for letting me fall alone.”

Frank knows that whatever conversation the two are holding must be incredibly important, and he wants to listen, but he can’t take his attention away from the patch of flowers. Something has changed. “Guys.”

Bert looks away from Gerard and steps to Frank’s side. He has two small patches of red burning high on his cheekbones. Frank, wisely, chooses to ignore them. “Yes?”

Frank points to the base of the flowers, then swivels and points to a nearby tree. “The black. It’s covering all the plants.”

Bert gracefully falls to his knees and brushes a finger over the black streaks. “Gerard, you said this was completely organic?”

“Yeah. There’s nothing off about it, if that’s what you’re wondering. I don’t know why it burned Frank’s hand.”

Frank sees a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and turns towards the wall. For a moment, he isn’t certain what drew his gaze. Then he sees a slowly creeping tendril of the same black substance climbing its way up the bricks. The tendril stops for a moment and then shoots out a second branch, the new appendage jumping nearly five feet from its point of origin and starting up the same slow crawl. “Bert-- Bert!”

Frank has never really subscribed to the theory that your life flashes before your eyes when you think you’re going to die. He suddenly understands why it’s a common trope, though, when the original tendril twists away from the wall and aims itself between his eyes. Time seems to freeze, and his thoughts fly at a mile a minute, warning him of danger while simultaneously distracting him enough to prevent him from choosing an action that might move him out of the tendril’s path. He can’t make his body react to the slowly dawning realization that the next branch of searing pain will hit him directly in the face. He sees it erupt and screws his eyes shut, holding his breath.

Then Frank is wrapped, not in the agony he was preparing himself for, but in something soft and warm. He draws in a breath, pulse thudding in his temples, and forces his eyes to open.

He’s encased in a wall of red feathers. A pair of strong arms are wrapped around him tightly. He reaches out to press a hand to the feathers, and they shiver.

“You will not be hurt while I’m here,” Bert’s soft voice murmurs in his ear. Frank has a brief flashback to the last time someone was pressed that close to his back, and he has to choke back a rather inappropriate laugh. He relaxes back against Bert’s chest. 

“Thank you.” 

The feathers part, and Frank gasps softly. “Bert, you have-- wings?”

Bert’s wings are the most beautiful thing Frank thinks he’s ever seen. They emerge from his shoulder blades as a dark burgundy and slowly fade into a vibrant scarlet at their tips. The feathers are smooth and broad.

“How…” Frank trails off, tipping his head back to meet Bert’s eyes. “How have you been hiding these?”

“It’s a glamour,” Bert responds. He smiles down at Frank. “I keep them hidden from everyone until they’re needed.”

“I knew about them,” Gerard mumbles. He’s standing several feet away with his arms crossed, and he takes a step closer as he speaks. Bert’s arms tighten around Frank’s waist.

“You need to leave, Gerard.”

Frank stiffens slightly, glancing between them. Bert’s face is set in hard lines. Gerard’s lips part slightly and his forehead creases.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Gerard says after a moment of shocked silence. “Not while this is happening. I deserve answers too.”

“You don’t deserve anything,” Bert hisses. “You’ve put him in enough danger already.”

“What’s happening isn’t my fault! I haven’t done any of this.”

“You need to go!” Bert insists, pulling Frank closer. He sets a protective hand on Frank’s chest, and Gerard’s eyes narrow.

“So, tell me, Bert. Do you want me to leave because you want to protect Frank? Or cause you want to be alone with him?”

Bert drops his hand from Frank’s chest like he’s been burned. Gerard gives him a mean little smirk.

“Enough,” Frank says, gently pushing at Bert’s arms on his waist until he removes them. “The two of you are insanely powerful and really old, right? Ancient supernatural beings? Stop acting like little kids.”

Both men regard Frank for a moment, then Gerard clears his throat. “I’m not going to leave. I know you,” he pauses, expression pained, “you don’t like what I am. I know you hate what I’ve become. But you can’t send me away. I have as much a right to be here as you do.”

Frank glances at Bert. He looks equally pained. 

“I can’t let you stay if you’ll hurt him.”

“I won’t hurt him, for god’s sake!” Gerard cries, tone exasperated. “I’m not like that, Bert! In all the years that you’ve known me, have I ever intentionally hurt a human? Have I?”

Bert’s expression hardens again. “I don’t trust you to stay passive.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me to be evil.”

“Stop,” Frank says softly, and then raises his voice. “Stop it. Both of you can stay. I want to know what’s going on.”

Gerard turns to him, a flash of hope darting across his face so quickly Frank isn’t sure if he actually saw it. “What do you want to know?”

Bert squares his jaw but stays silent.

“I want to know why you’re here. Honestly. There’s a reason you both showed up on campus in the first place, and I don’t think it was because of me.”

Gerard hesitates and glances at Bert briefly. “It wasn’t because of you. I’m, well, expendable. When Hell started to take notice of the ripples - they were this increasingly intense series of shockwaves through the earth - we pinpointed their origin to this campus. Miles underneath this campus, actually. The Deceiver sent me because He can afford to lose me. If something happens, my job is to send a distress signal and wait for His warriors to show up. If I die in the process, oh fucking well.” His words are bitter and tired.

“Why did you call me a key?”

Gerard sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to stay. Bert was going to kick me out, so I said what I thought would allow me to stay.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Bert spits, taking an angry step in Gerard’s direction. 

Gerard, in a surprisingly wolfish gesture, bares his teeth at Bert. “Back off.”

“Both of you calm the fuck down,” Frank inserts, stepping between them. “Bert, why are you here?”

“I felt you. You were scared, in pain, and I needed to find you.”

“So… you really are my guardian angel?” 

“In a sense,” Bert says. “I have thousands of charges, Frank. I’ve never seen you in person before this. I came here because I felt something unnatural about the pain you were experiencing. The whole thing just reeked of a demon.”

“I didn’t hurt him!” Gerard interjects, his eyes wide. “How many times do I have to tell you? It wasn’t me!”

“It really wasn’t,” Frank says, setting a hand on Bert’s arm. “He tried to help.”

Bert stares Gerard down. “Did he try anything with you? I know his kind.”

“I would never,” Gerard whispers. “Do you truly think so little of me, Bert? Have you forgotten everything you knew about me?”

“He-- shit, Bert, quit it!” Frank says. “He didn’t force me to do anything.” The Frank of five minutes ago would never believe he’d be saying this, let alone be willing to trust Gerard after the move he made in the dorm, but the hurt, the betrayal on Gerard’s face tipped him over the edge. He continued, “I trust him. I trust both of you. You’ve both tried to help me. Can’t you get along for five fucking minutes?”

Bert and Gerard stare at each other for several seconds. Bert’s eyes are narrowed and calculating. Gerard’s jaw is clenched and his cheeks are flushed.

“Seriously,” Frank says. He extends a hand to Gerard. “I trust you, okay? C’mere.”

Gerard tears his gaze from Bert and steps closer, setting his feverish hand in Frank’s. “Okay.”

Frank squeezes gently and turns to Bert. “I want you here,” he murmurs. “You make me feel safe, and-- if everything you guys are saying is true, I’ll probably need all the protection I can get. I need the two of you to stop fighting. Please.”

Bert lets out a long sigh and walks to them. Frank takes his hand as well. “Please,” he repeats.

Gerard meets Bert’s eyes and they both hesitate for a moment. “Fine,” Bert finally says. “But I’m watching you.”

Gerard opens his mouth, eyes flashing, but subsides when Frank shoots him a warning look. “Fine.”

Frank resolves to ask Gerard about the past he shares with Bert. “Can we go inside? I really don’t like this black shit.” He turns to go, dropping both their hands.

The earth shakes. 

The first initial tremor is strong enough to knock Frank off his feet and he falls hard, his palms scraping across the path. The earthquake continues before he can regain his footing. Something crashes in the dorm building, and he can hear glass shattering. In the wall right beside his head, a brick cracks. 

Bert’s hands wrap around his shoulders and pull him up, tugging him away from the dorm. “Gerard!”

Gerard is staring at the ground, shaking. “It’s happening.”

“Gerard, get over here!” Bert calls. He passes his fingers over the scrapes on Frank’s hands and they disappear. “Now!”

He stumbles over. Bert grabs his wrist and he winces. “Snap out of it.”

The ground finally stills.

As students begin to spill out of the dorms and their anxious chatter rises in volume, Frank slowly becomes aware that his ears are ringing. “What happened?”

Bert wears a grim expression. “We screwed up.”

Gerard steps around Frank and shoves Bert backwards. “You screwed up? What the fuck did you do, McCracken? Answer me right fucking now.”

“Not me. My brethren. Gerard -- you need to promise me that nothing I say here will reach the ears of the Deceiver.”

“I promise,” Gerard says slowly, his hands clenched in the fabric of Bert’s shirt. “Talk.”

“The Light is gone. They’ve been gone for years. My brethren have been calling Them. We thought we felt an energy signature big enough to be Them deep beneath the earth, below even Hell, but when we investigated something felt wrong to me. They didn’t believe me, and when I kicked up a fuss over it, they asked me to step away from the investigation. They attempted to wake the Light while I was gone, the ritual failed, and they turned their attention elsewhere. I’m afraid that- Gerard, what if they woke something else?”

Gerard stares at him blankly. “The Light is gone?”

“Yes. That’s not what I’m worried about right now.”

“What else would they have felt?” Frank interjects, the back of his neck prickling. “Is there anything down there?”

“There could be anything,” Bert responds. “We don’t know.”

“How the fuck do you not know? Aren’t you supposed to be omniscient? Since you’re an angel and everything?”

“We don’t know!” Bert says again. “Frank, we aren’t as old as you think we are. We came into existence less than four thousand years ago. The earth’s been around for a lot longer than that.”

“You’re gonna have to explain that to me,” Frank says. “How the fuck was the world created, then? I thought you two were sorta proof that the Christians were right.”

“Everyone is right,” Gerard finally releases Bert and steps closer to Frank. “When humanity believes, their gods are created.”

“Wait--”

“You made us up,” Bert confirms. “Everything that humans have believed in exists because you believed in it.”

“All religions? It’s all real?”

“All of it.”

Frank’s head feels cloudy. “Then what happens when we die?”

“That depends on what you believe,” Gerard says, gently touching Frank’s shoulder. “Everyone gets the afterlife they assume to be real.”

“So-- okay. Then whatever is causing this black stuff could be literally anything? Out of thousands of years of religions?”

“Basically. I promise it’ll be okay, Frank,” Bert says. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Believe it or not, my safety’s not exactly what I’m concerned about right now,” Frank responds, rubbing his temples to try to ease the pressure building behind them. “If the Light - I assume you mean God? - is gone, what will you do? Is there anything that can actually stop whatever’s about to happen?”

“Nobody wants to see earth’s balance disrupted,” Bert murmurs, resting his hand against the side of Frank’s head. The headache vanishes. “This is not your battle, Frank. You don’t have to be afraid. Whatever this is will not win. I promise.”

“Like hell it’s not,” Frank says sharply, pushing Bert’s hand away. “The moment this fucking thing burned me, it became my goddamn fight.”

“Absolutely not!” Gerard chimes in. His fingers dig into Frank’s shoulder, and Frank hates himself for how weak his knees become. “You’re going to get the fuck out of here and stay safe.”

Frank’s teeth dig into his lower lip as an aftershock vibrates across the campus. “I’m not leaving.”

The cracked brick splits further. Gerard’s grip tightens. “You don’t understand, Frank. This isn’t a fucking game. Anything that’s powerful enough to do shit like this is bad news. It must’ve been dormant for a reason.”

He wrenches away from Gerard’s grasp. “So what? If it’s super powerful, couldn’t it hurt me regardless of where I am? I’m no safer if I leave.”

“We’ll stop it here.” Bert takes a step forward. “It won’t get anywhere near you.”

“But you don’t know that!” Frank hisses. “If this is as dangerous as you say, do you really have a chance? I’m going to stay. I’m no fucking coward.”

Bert folds his arms across his chest, the lines on his forehead deepening as he frowns. “Frank, I can’t let you stay. You’re under my protection.”

“Then let me stay here so you can protect me! You definitely can’t keep me safe if I’m off campus. Not while you’re busy here. I can help you, Bert! I know this campus like the back of my hand. This is my home.”

“Do you know what it would do to me if you were hurt?” Bert murmurs, his frown relaxing into something sadder. “I’ve lost far too many people I’ve cared about. I can’t lose you too. Not now, not that I know you.”

Gerard stares at them, his complexion even paler than usual. Frank doesn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes at Bert’s words.

“Please go,” Bert continues. He cautiously sets his hand on Frank’s shoulder, as if he expects him to shrug it off again. “I’ll come for you when it’s safe, I promise.”

“I’m not leaving,” Frank repeats. “I’m sorry, Bert. I really am. But you’re going to have to deal with it. I’m paying thousands of dollars for this shit, dude, so unless you can magically give me my degree, I’m staying right the fuck here. I promise I’ll be careful.”

“I don’t think it would make a difference at this point,” Gerard says softly. “Bert, look at the ground.”

Bert snaps his gaze down and Frank follows suit. The charcoal discoloration is spreading towards their feet, winding through the newly formed cracks in the sidewalk. 

“Frank, get back,” Bert says under his breath. He throws an arm in front of Frank’s chest in a protective gesture that seems futile. 

“Bert,” Gerard warns, glancing at the dorm. The tendrils are swaying in a nonexistent gust of wind. “Get him out of here.”

“I’m not leaving,” Frank says for a third time, his words tight as a growing sense of frustration burns in his chest. 

“Then get him inside, damn it,” Gerard retorts. “Away from this shit.”

Bert nods and tugs Frank up the pathway, Gerard in close pursuit. None of the milling students pay any attention to them, and they quickly slip indoors. 

The dorm is cool and quiet. Frank wants nothing more than to lock himself in his room and sleep for hours, but he knows he wouldn’t be able to relax. “What are we going to do?”

Silence answers him, and he turns. Gerard and Bert have paused in the hallway and are avoiding each other’s eyes. 

“Guys?”

“I want you two to stay inside,” Bert mumbles. “I’m going to go back and get some of the black material. It might give us some answers.”

Frank glances between them. “Okay. Uh, what do you want us to do?”

“Gerard, pack a bag for Frank. I’m not changing my mind.”

Frank opens his mouth in outrage but shuts up when Gerard places a warning hand on his arm. 

“Fine,” Gerard says stiffly. “Take your time.”

Bert sighs and wheels around. The door slams shut behind him.

“Gerard,” Frank starts. “Did you just--”

“I won’t make you leave,” Gerard says, dropping his hand. His knuckles brush against Frank’s wrist. “He’s always been like this. Stupid and hardheaded and unwilling to think. You have as much a right to be here as we do, and he needs to realize that.”

Frank hesitates. “Hey. You and Bert-- you have a history, right? You were friends? Or something?”

“We were friends,” Gerard repeats. “The best of friends, till he decided his job was more important than his morals.”

“I don’t understand.” Even to himself, Frank sounds childish. He flushes.

“Neither do I.”

Frank reaches out, fingers just barely grazing Gerard’s arm. “I know I’m human, but you can talk to me.”

Gerard shifts close enough that Frank can feel the heat from his skin. “You’re honestly one of the best people I’ve ever met. I’m,” he goes quiet for a brief moment. “I’m very sorry we dragged you into this mess. I wouldn’t blame you if you left, Frank. Neither of us would. You’re just a man.”

"I would blame me if I left,” Frank counters, giving Gerard a smile. “Listen, don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge. I’ve probably broken every bone in my body at this point, man. A little bit of black shit isn’t going to scare me away. Not when I know I could be doing good here.” Frank keeps his smile wide and confident, hoping Gerard didn’t have demonic emotion sensing powers or whatever. It would definitely weaken his argument if he could sense exactly how terrified he was.

Gerard appraises Frank, nodding slowly. “You have the uniquely human ability to be a suicidal dumbass, I’ll give you that. I’ll back you on this. Bert will let you stay.”

Frank’s grin broadens and he throws his arms around Gerard’s neck, hugging him tightly. “Thanks so much, dude! You’re the best.”

Gerard stands frozen and then gradually relaxes into the embrace, resting his palms on Frank’s lower back. 

Frank pulls away and clears his throat. “So. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Well, uh, I wouldn’t know where to start. We’ve known each other since the day he was created. Bert-- he was the best being I had ever met. Younger than I was by several years, but I looked up to him. Until he,” Gerard swallows, “he used me. I had been doing research on how the universe came to be, and figured out it wasn’t because of the Light - you would know Them as your Christian God - and that we were actively preaching a lie. I lost my faith, and I told Bert about it. Nobody else. So when the archangels came for me--”

Bert pushes the door open again, clutching several lengths of squirming black tendril, and Gerard abruptly shuts his mouth.

“Frank, where can I test this?” Bert asks. “Do you have a science center?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s a couple of buildings down. Do you want to go there now?”

“That’d be great.”

Gerard frowns and gestures at the door. “Really? You want us to go outside again?”

“I never said you had to come. Frank can bring me there perfectly well without you accompanying us.”

“Like fuck I’d let him be alone with you,” Gerard hisses. 

“I am not the enemy, Gerard! I’m trying to fix this!”

“You’re just doing a marvelous job of it!”

Frank sighs impatiently, hoping the sound will mask his discomfort. “Seriously, guys, this isn’t the time. Let’s go now, before the black shit comes even closer.”

Gerard eyes Bert but nods. “Fine. Bert, don’t let those get close to Frank.”

“Your faith in me is astounding,” Bert responds dryly, tugging the door open again. “Lead the way, Frank.”

Frank steps into the muggy air and shoots a quick glance at Gerard, who is staring resolutely forward. “Follow me, I guess.”

The black appendages really hate the laboratory. Bert has placed several tiny samples in high walled petri dishes, and they are squirming around and propelling themselves off the plastic walls at alarming speeds. Frank’s skin crawls whenever he looks at them. He rubs his palm, a phantom itch flaring up where the burn used to be.

“Gerard, can you touch it without being burned?” Bert asks, prodding one of the writhing tendrils with a fingertip. 

“I haven’t tried yet,” Gerard admits. “Heal me if this goes wrong, okay?”

“Can’t. We aren’t supposed to heal anything but our charges.”

“Seriously?” Gerard’s face scrunches up. “You’d be willing to let it burn me without even trying to help?”

“I’m not allowed to help,” Bert says, shooting an exasperated glance at Gerard. “I’m not saying that I wouldn’t want to help. Just that I can’t.”

“Well, you can do all the work by yourself,” he responds, miffed. “I don’t want to risk it.”

Ignoring their bickering, Frank has ransacked the storage cabinet and pulled on an extra set of safety goggles and a heavy duty pair of gloves. “Tell me what to do, Bert.”

“Grab a glass of warm water,” Bert requests. He pokes at it again. “And a scalpel.”

Frank winces but obeys. “What are you planning?”

“I need to see what this is made of and how old it is. If we can figure this out, we have a chance at pinpointing the century that this thing might be coming from.”

“So you’re certain it’s ancient?” Frank asks. 

“It’s more likely than anything else.” Bert takes a step back and glances at Gerard. “Are you sure you don’t want to help? I won’t make you touch it.”

“Certain,” Gerard says. His arms are folded tightly across his chest. “I don’t want to be the expendable one again.”

“I never said you were expendable,” Bert breathes. His annoyance seems to melt away in a heartbeat and he approaches Gerard. “Do you really think I’d treat you that way?”

“I don’t know, Bert.” His words are acidic. “I didn’t think you’d sell me out either, and here we are. Did you enjoy watching them break my wings?”

“I didn’t sell you out!” 

Gerard shoves Bert back against a shelf and steps closer. Their chests are less than an inch apart. “Then how did they know? How did your superiors know to search my room?”

“I didn’t,” he whispers. “I would never do that to anyone. Least of all you.”

“Least of all me? What gives you the right to say this shit? What—” Gerard’s voice breaks, and he pulls away. “You destroyed me.”

“How can I fix this?” He sounds lost. “I would do anything, Gee. I miss you.”

“You should’ve realized that you’d miss me before you gave them a reason to cast me out.”

“I didn’t give them anything!”

“You weren’t even there! I was terrified, and it hurt so fucking badly, and I couldn’t find you! Was it too hard to say goodbye after you ruined me?”

“They wouldn’t let me!” Bert’s eyes swim and he grits his teeth. “The day they cast you out, two warriors came to my door. They locked me inside, Gerard. I didn’t know what was happening until you were already gone, and— my Archangel told me that if I attempted to find you I would be cast out too.”

“So you didn’t even try?”

“Of course I tried. I did everything I could to find you without being caught, Gee. I didn’t give up until--” he hesitates. “Until I saw you behind the lines at Breitenfeld.”

“Breitenfeld?” Gerard asks, the word hushed and shaky. “You looked for me for three thousand years?”

Frank has no clue what the hell Breitenfeld is, but he’s pretty sure that now is a terrible time to ask.

“I never stopped. Not till I saw you.”

“What made you stop then?”

“I realized what would happen if I approached you as if we were still friends, still the same as we used to be. You were okay, Gerard. You looked like you had healed. I didn’t want to give you a reason to be unhappy.”

Gerard steps farther away. His expression smoothes into a neutral mask. “You were wrong.”

“What should I have done?” Bert whispers.

“Kept my research a secret. Admitted that you were losing your faith as well. Followed me to Hell. Approached me at Breitenfeld.”

“I couldn’t do that, Gerard! I never said a word about your research to anyone. Never. I would’ve kept your secret safe till the end of time. But I couldn’t follow you. It would’ve meant losing everything.”

“I would have followed you,” Gerard murmurs. “You were worth more to me than any job. Worth more than my wings. I just-- it’s good to know I wasn’t that valuable. I’ll have to pick my friends better next time.”

The look on Bert’s face is pure heartbreak. “Gee--”

“Don’t call me that. Never again.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

Gerard turns back to Frank, his eyes empty. “I’ll be outside. Be careful.”

Frank only has time to nod before Gerard walks past him woodenly. The laboratory door clicks into place behind him.

“Bert--”

“Don’t,” Bert says quietly. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

Frank chews at his lip. “Are you sure? I don’t know the whole story, but I’ve been told that I’m a great listener.”

Bert shakes his head, but touches Frank’s shoulder. “Let’s just test these things, okay? It’ll be fine.”

Frank nods again, shuffling his feet slightly as he steps back to the desk. “Okay. Okay, that’s-- yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bert says, his tone warm. “Come here, okay? I want you to cover this tendril with water.”

“What would that do?” Frank asked, torn between curiosity and anxiety. His hand hovered over the petri dish that Bert had pointed out. 

“I want to see how the tendril reacts to the presence of water. There’s a good chance that the reaction will narrow down what the tendril might be made of.”

“It’s a shame you don’t have, like, the power to know everything. Omnipotence. Whatever it’s called.” Frank’s tone is teasing, and he hopes it’ll lighten the mood a bit. 

Bert cracks a tiny smile. “Just pour the water, Iero.”

His cheeks warm and he beams at Bert in response. He takes a deep breath, smile fading, and tips the glass. For a moment, nothing happens. 

Then the tendril slowly dissolves. Its outline becomes smoky and faded, and the charcoal color leaches into the surrounding water. 

Bert narrows his eyes and steps closer. He quickly draws back, coughing. “That definitely isn’t good,” he manages after his coughing fit fades. “Smell it.”

Frank cautiously leans closer. A sharp, acidic smell floods into his nose and he jerks away, eyes starting to water. “What is that?”

“I haven’t smelled anything like that in a long time,” Bert says grimly. “Guano.”

“Wait-- sorry? Did you say fuckin’ guano?”

“Bat droppings, yes. It’s not purely guano, though. The way that’s dissolving-- there’s something mixed in with it. Frank, spit in one of the dishes.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Frank stares at him. “Dude, what the hell.”

“I want to try something, okay? Trust me.”

“What the fuck do you need with my spit?”

Bert meets his eyes with a level gaze. “If this is what I think it is, it’s already mixed with spit. Really old spit. I want to test that theory. I could use more, and since I’m not exactly human, you’re the obvious choice.”

Frank’s mouth opens uselessly. “I--”

“Please, Frank?”

“I fucking guess? This really isn’t what I expected to happen when I said I’d help you run tests, though.”

Bert sighs and points at the petri dish to Frank’s right. “Just humor me.”

Frank, still skeptical, steps forward and spits into the dish. “You owe me, man.”

Bert chuckles. “I owe you. Hand me something to stir this with, okay?”

This time, instead of dissolving in a thin cloud, the tendril grows gooey and sticky. It finally loses its shape, forming a thick paste. 

“Thought so,” Bert says triumphantly. He smears the paste on the desk, and it dries quickly in a smear of charcoal. 

“--Okay?”

“It’s paint. From-- oh, a couple thousand years ago, maybe? When humanity was evolving and developing skills, this is how they created cave paintings. The guano wasn’t sentient then, obviously, which concerns me. Whatever ancient power is returning will be hard to beat if it can cause earthquakes and turn paint into acid.”

“Holy shit,” Frank says faintly. “Well, uh. Any idea what the god might be?”

Bert shakes his head. His tone is mystefied when he responds, “I wasn’t alive back then. I honestly don’t know.”

“Well,” Frank repeats, his voice gaining strength. “That’s where I come in, I guess. I’m pretty fucking good at finding my way around the library. We’ve gotta have something about ancient gods in there, right?

“That-- that’s really not a bad idea, Frank,” Bert says approvingly, the corner of his mouth lifting. 

Frank grins back and turns toward the door. “I’m full of the best ideas. Ask everyone I’ve partied with.”

“I’ll refrain, thank you. Let me dispose of these and I’ll be right with you.”

He chuckles, tugging the door open. “Gerard, dude, we’re going to the library. Do you wanna come with?”

Gerard runs a hand over his face before facing Frank. His eyes are rimmed with red and suspiciously watery. “Sure. Did you figure out what’s going on? With the vine things?”

“Yeah,” Frank says, trying to put every ounce of empathy he has into the smile he gives Gerard. “I’ll catch you up on the way, sound good?”

He nods. “Mmhmm. Thank you.”

Frank catches Gerard’s fingers and gently squeezes. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“I will be,” Gerard murmurs. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I worry about fucking everything, that’s impossible,” Frank says with a chuckle. Gerard’s mouth twitches. “Seriously, though, I’m here for you. I know losing a friend is the worst fucking feeling, and I can’t even imagine how much worse it would feel to lose a friend you’ve known for that long.”

Gerard sets a hand in Frank’s hair. “Thank you. I’m sorry for not being the bigger person, or whatever. You don’t deserve to be caught in the middle of our shit.”

Frank shrugs, barely holding back from pressing into Gerard’s touch like a cat. “There are worse situations to be in the middle of. I promise it’s okay.”

Bert opens the door and Gerard tugs his hand away. “Ready?”

Frank nods, glancing worriedly at Gerard. “Ready.”

Frank has nearly forgotten how much he loves the campus library. It’s six floors of badly arranged shelving, dusty books, ancient elevators, and even older computers, and at that moment it makes him feel like he can conquer the world. Acidic guano based paint? No problem. Earthquakes? A fucking breeze. He pulled three all nighters in a row here, sitting in his favorite desk on the second floor, to finish his twenty-five page paper last semester. It’s hard to be scared of anything after surviving that.

“So-- you said the shit is how old?”

“Roughly thirty thousand years. And it’s not just shit, it’s paint.” Bert is scanning the shelves with no small amount of interest. “Do you think you’ll find anything here?”

“If it isn’t here, it’ll be on JSTORE,” Frank says absentmindedly. He heads into the maze of books. 

Bert follows him. “Hey, Frank?”

He hums in response, trailing his fingers over the rows of fading dust covers. 

“Why are you here?”

“Here?”

“Going to school here,” Bert clarifies. “What are you studying?”

Frank’s cheeks feel warm. “I’m a social work major.”

“Social work? What job do you want?” Bert asks. He sounds genuinely curious, something Frank wasn’t really expecting from him.

“I wanna work with teenagers.” Frank’s pretty sure he’s blushing furiously at this point. “I was in the system as a teen, just for a little while, and it’s fucking awful. I want to improve it for all the kids who will have to be part of it in the future.”

“The system?”

“Oh, shit, sorry. I forgot you aren’t, uh, from around here.” 

This earns a smile from Bert, and Frank grins as well. “It’s the foster care system. When a kid’s family can’t take care of them, the government takes them and finds a new place for them to live temporarily. I was only in it for about a year before I aged out and came to school here, but it was-- it was kind of a nightmare. Not for me, personally, but for basically everyone else I met. The family I was placed with was super nice, and I aged out quickly, but most people didn’t get that lucky. I heard some-- some really bad shit. I just-- I want to make sure all the kids who will be going into the system are actually cared for. It’s pretty fucking tough.”

Bert squeezes his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Frank. I wish I had known to intervene. You shouldn’t have had to be in the system at all.”

“Hey, no, dude. Don’t worry at all. I was just in it while my mom got clean, you know? She’s sober now and I live with her during my breaks. Everything’s good.”

Bert doesn’t look convinced. “I still wish I had known. I should pay more attention to my human charges.”

“I-- well, maybe,” Frank admits, voice low. He avoids meeting Bert’s eyes. “I was okay, but that doesn’t mean everyone else was, you know?”

“You’re right,” he says, squeezing Frank’s shoulder for a second time. “I’ll do better. You know-- you’re something of a guardian angel yourself.”

“Seriously?” Frank asks. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re dedicating your life to caring for and protecting other people. That’s what guardian angels are supposed to do.”

“Or maybe you’re just like a social worker?”

Bert chuckles and shakes his head, giving Frank a fond smile. “No. We angels could never be as great as everyone like you. You’re better than us.”

Frank’s face heats up again and he breaks eye contact. He has no idea how to respond, and struggles for a moment before choosing to abruptly change the subject. “Hey-- what’s going to happen after all of this is over? Will both of you leave?”

“I don’t know.” Bert tugs a book off the shelf and flips through it. The pages move far too fast to allow him to actually read them. “I have no say in what Gerard will do. And I don’t know how soon I’ll return to Heaven.”

“Oh,” Frank murmurs. “Yeah. You don’t, um, think you’ll ever visit, right?”

“You’d want me to visit?” Bert stops flipping through the book. 

“I mean-- I, uh, yeah.” Frank attempts to adopt a casual tone. “If you’d want. I know we’re sort of dealing with a shit ton right now, but I’ve liked spending time with you anyway. And-- Gerard’s happy to see you again, even if he won’t say it. I can tell.” He breaks off and makes a satisfied noise as he spots a textbook on ancient religions. “Oh, fuck yeah. This is exactly what we need.”

“Gerard’s happy to see me?”

“Definitely. Well-- I don’t know if happy is the best word for it, but he’s fucking missed you. A lot. He was crying when I came out of the lab. I don’t think he’d cry over someone he didn’t care about, you know?”

“He says I failed him.” Bert’s words are barely louder than a whisper. “I think he’d prefer I leave for good.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” Frank objects. “You should talk to him, Bert.”

“I tried that already, remember?”

“Try again. You’re both fucking hurt over this, right? Unless you want to lose him for good, you need to keep trying.”

Bert sighs, scrubbing his palm across his face. “He just doesn’t seem to understand that none of this was my fault.”

“He doesn’t really blame you for what happened,” Frank says. He steps a bit closer to Bert and nudges him. “Hey, I mean it. Remember what he said when you first got here?”

“But he said that he blamed me for letting him fall alone. Frank-- I really messed up. Several years after I saw him again, I was assigned to protect a child in what’s now Florida. I--”

“Wait, what’s now Florida? When was this? And what was the thing you said you saw Gerard at, again?”

“This was in 1648 AD. Seventeen years after the Battle of Breitenfeld, which was part of what I believe you would know as the Thirty Years’ War? Angels and demons always come face to face during events of particular religious importance. It’s the reason that I finally found Gerard.”

“So why were you in Florida? I somehow doubt anything important was going on there.”

Bert chuckles, shaking his head. “I was only there to protect a child. Gerard showed up for another reason.”

After a moment of silence, Frank prompts, “Which was?”

“He was supposed to tempt a man to cheat on his wife. I’m fairly sure he failed, because I never sensed a sin like that taking place. But we ran into each other, and I reacted-- poorly. At best. I referred to him as a demon, and dismissed him, and told him we couldn’t speak.”

“Bert--”

“I know!” Bert says miserably. “I messed up so badly. I just thought I was doing the right thing. I don’t know how to fix this.”

Frank takes a deep breath and adds another book on religion to the tiny stack in his arms. “Tell him what you told me. It’s a start, you know?”

“Yeah, I--”

Gerard steps into the aisle and Bert chokes on his words. “I’ll go check the fourth floor.”

As he steps past Frank, he leans in, lips almost touching his ear. “And yes, I’ll visit you. If you still want me to.”

Frank blushes and stares down at his armful of books, heart pounding. He nods.

“What was that about?” Gerard asks, cocking a hip as he leans against a shelf. His eyes sweep over Frank. “You look-- flushed.”

“It was nothing,” Frank stammers. “Hey, uh, can I ask you something? Do you really think it was Bert’s fault that the, um, archangels found out about your research? He’s insisting that it wasn’t him.”

Gerard blinks at him. “It’s not like I wanted it to be his fault.”

“No, dude, that, that’s not what I’m saying. I--”

“I just don’t know who else it could’ve been!” Gerard breaks in. “I didn’t tell anyone besides Bert. Not a single soul. I don’t want all of this to be because of him. I want-- god, I want to forgive him. But he keeps hurting me, over and over and fucking over again, and I can’t let that happen.”

Frank chews at his lip, staying quiet for several seconds. “He’s been talking about you. He told me he really messed up.”

“He did,” Gerard agrees. 

“And he says he wants to fix this, fix everything that went wrong.”

“Words aren’t enough,” Gerard says, staring at his feet. “I need him to prove it to me, you know? I can’t keep hoping that things will get better.”

Frank nods. “Well-- I told him that he needs to talk to you again. I was sort of hoping he’d go for it when you walked up, but I guess he wasn’t ready.”

“Why do you care?” Gerard blurts. “Not to be rude, but you don’t have to get involved in this shit. It’s not your job.”

Frank shrugs, conscious of Gerard’s eyes on him. “You seem unhappy. It’s kinda the least I can do since you’re letting me stay.”

The smallest of smiles pulls at Gerard’s mouth. “Fair enough. And, um, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while. I’m really sorry about earlier. I should never have fucked with you the way I did.”

“I’m sorry too,” Frank says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know why I reacted like that.”

“It was completely my fault, don’t apologize,” Gerard says adamantly, his words soft. “I fucked up, and took advantage of your humanity. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You stopped me,” Frank reminds him. “I don’t think you took advantage of me, dude. You could’ve, and you pulled away.”

“Yeah, but--”

“No buts, man. I meant it earlier when I told Bert that I trust you. You don’t have to worry about me being upset, okay? We’re good.”

The tiny smile blossoms and grows, still slightly crooked. It’s ridiculously endearing. “Okay. We’re good.”

Bert takes that moment to return with what must be close to fifteen books. “Frank,” he greets. “Where can we study these? It would be best to be out of the public eye.”

“I-- shit, man, we can go back to my dorm room? Gerard’s technically my roommate this semester, so we won’t have to worry about anyone but my RA. He never checks my room without warning. We’d be safe.”

Gerard nudges Frank. “We might want to clean up all the remnants of my spell, by the way. If the angel’s gonna be around. It’s probably bad for him.”

“I’m perfectly fine with demonic residue,” Bert says stiffly. 

Frank sighs. “We’ll go to my dorm room. Gerard will clean up the spell. Bert and I will start studying. I can probably cook enough ramen for all of us in my microwave. We won’t need to leave for dinner or anything. It’ll be fine.”

“Ramen?”

“It’s a college staple,” Frank informs him. “It’s like a really cheap cup of-- you know, dude, I have no clue what’s actually in it. You’ll figure it out.”

Bert takes the books from Frank and they disappear from his hands. “They’ll be waiting for us on your bed, Frank. Let’s go.”

Walking out of the library doors is like stepping into another world. A faint layer of mist hugs the ground, flowing around the surrounding buildings in a swirling, sinuous sheet. It’s a bit chilly for a summer night, and the normally deafening insects sound subdued. Frank scans the campus, the back of his neck prickling.

He isn’t sure what it is, but he knows that something is off. There’s a sense of deep unease hovering over the campus. Gerard emerges from the doors behind him and tenses up, confirming his suspicions.

“Something’s wrong,” Frank breathes, taking the tiniest step backwards. His shoulders press against Gerard’s chest. 

“Stay close,” Gerard murmurs, his fingers running lightly over Frank’s arm. “Don’t speak loudly or move quickly.”

Bert hesitates in the doorway, his eyes meeting Frank’s for a moment before he sweeps his gaze across the campus. “Gerard, can you see anything?”

“No. We need to be careful.”

“Frank should have left a long time ago.”

Frank shrinks away from Bert, staring at the ground.

Gerard curls a protective arm around Frank’s chest. His gentle, burning fingers splay across his shirt and catch briefly on the neckline, brushing skin. “Focus on what really matters. Keep him safe here, yeah?”

Frank’s torn between disdain at the concept of needing their protection and being genuinely grateful that Gerard was siding with him instead of Bert. He leans a bit more of his weight on Gerard’s torso.

Bert sidles around them, his hand dropping to the sword hanging at his side. “Can you get him to his dorm room quickly? I don’t want any of us exposed longer than we have to be.”

The movement of Gerard’s chest stays steady and comforting as he breathes. “Yeah. I can have him to his dorm in less than a minute, but I can’t run and fight at the same time. That’s up to you.”

Frank swallows nervously and Gerard’s fingers stroke at the skin just above his collarbone. 

“What do you think it is?” Frank’s teeth tug at his lower lip. 

“Nothing big,” Gerard responds quietly. He rubs the base of Frank’s throat in small, soothing circles. “We would sense it if we were in that kind of danger. You’ll be safe.”

“And Bert?” Frank dares to ask. “Will he be okay?”

Bert shoots a glance over his shoulder, lips parting slightly in a barely there expression of surprise. “I’ll be perfectly fine, Frank. Don’t worry.”

Frank gives him a tiny smile. “Okay. I just don’t--”

A figure slips out of the darkness and fog. Frank stiffens against Gerard, his breath coming in a hitched gasp, and Bert turns, drawing his blade with a quiet rasp of steel on steel.

The figure is tall and shadowed, barely visible in the gloom. It takes a deliberate step forward, moving into the moonlight, and the ragged fabric it’s swathed in moves just like the tendrils, and Frank can’t see its face, and--

“Oh, god,” he chokes, fingers curling into shaking fists as more identical figures follow the first. “Oh, god, what the hell.”

“You’re okay,” Gerard whispers in his ear. “You’re okay, Frank. Breathe.”

“Who are you?” Bert calls, his words clear and confident. “Identify yourselves!”

No response comes, and Gerard’s arm tightens around Frank’s heaving chest. “Frankie, will you let me carry you? We can move faster that way.”

He nods jerkily. “Yeah, yeah.”

“What business do you have here? Identify yourselves!”

Gerard presses a soft kiss to Frank’s temple. “I’m going to pick you up. It’s going to be okay.” 

He slides his free arm behind Frank’s legs and lifts him, cradling him to his chest. Frank feels even smaller than usual, but he doesn’t hate it as much as he expected to. 

Bert strides several paces closer to the figures and lifts his sword, pointing the unwavering tip at the closest one. “Identify yourselves now.” The last word comes out as a growl. 

Then he freezes. “Gerard, go.”

Gerard’s hands grip Frank so tightly it’s almost painful. He starts sprinting.

Frank clutches at Gerard, feeling weightless, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face against the crook of his neck. He doesn’t want to see it if things go wrong. Doesn’t want to see the faceless figures overwhelm them.

Gerard curses and swerves, jolting Frank. He gasps against Gerard’s neck and bites his lip until the taste of blood erupts against his tongue.

“Almost there,” Gerard says tightly, breathing labored. “Almost there, Frankie, it’s okay.” He changes direction again and Frank desperately tightens his grip. The air is so still and hot as it rushes past his face that he can barely breathe.

A sudden spike of pain blossoms over Frank’s exposed arm. He cries out, the noise muffled in Gerard’s shoulder, and his stomach turns at the worryingly familiar burn spreading along his forearm. Before he can do anything more to react, he’s engulfed in a blast of cool air and Gerard’s footfalls are echoing back from cement walls.

“Gee--” he whispers, head spinning. 

Gerard finally slows, panting. “Shit, shit, Frank, are you okay? Did something hurt you? What’s wrong?”

Frank’s eyes won’t focus. Gerard sets him down and steadies him against the wall, and he stares uncomprehendingly at the blur where Gerard should be. “I--”

“Frank!”

“I, uh. M’ arm.”

“Oh my god-- okay, listen, just hang in there. Bert’s coming. He’s coming. You’re going to be okay.” Gerard’s words are terrified and come quickly, rushed and panicked. Frank has the feeling he should probably be scared, but the edges of the room are dissolving.

“Hmm,” he says, blinking. He can feel bile crawling its way up his throat. “I might puke.”

Gerard curses and lifts him again, his touch tender. “Nope, nope, hang on. We’re gonna go to our room, okay?”

Frank lets his head fall against Gerard’s chest. “Our room,” he agrees, mildly surprised at how slurred his words are. “Bert okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’s coming. Hey, can you take some deep breaths for me? In. Hold it. Out.”

He obediently breaths along with Gerard’s murmured commands. “Mm, my arm doesn’t hurt anymore. That’s, that’s good, right?”

“Very much not good,” Gerard says. “Keep breathing for me.”

Less than thirty seconds after Gerard carries Frank into their dorm room, Bert slams through the door and locks it behind him. “Gerard, what did you do?”

“It wasn’t my fault! One of them lunged too close. I tried to keep them away, but it was either let it touch him or let us fall into another one.”

Frank tries to lift his head from where it’s nestled but can’t muster the strength. “Bert--”

“Hey,” Bert says. 

Frank attempts to nod towards his arm. “Think one of them grabbed me.”

“Yeah, you have a pretty nasty burn,” Bert responds, far too cheerfully. It sounds vaguely like he’s trying to keep Frank calm, but he can’t bring himself to be offended. “You’ve got to stay awake, okay? Gerard, hold him still.”

Bert’s hand brushes against Frank’s arm and the burn erupts in agony. Frank draws in a hitched breath, eyes welling up and spilling down his cheeks as he ineffectually twitches away from the touch. “Bert--”

Bert’s hand closes around his arm and he jerks, a breathless sob escaping his throat in the moment before the pain begins to drain away in a slow trickle of relief. 

As soon as Frank’s vision clears, he goes limp in Gerard’s grasp. “Shit.”

“I’m so sorry,” Gerard bursts out. “God, Frank, I didn’t mean to let that happen, I promise.”

“‘S okay,” Frank croaks, his throat dry. He glances at his arm and relaxes even more when he finds it perfectly normal. “How bad was it?”

“I don’t think--” Gerard begins, but is interrupted by Bert.

“It ate all the way to the bone. You’re lucky to still have your arm at all.”

“Shit,” Frank says again. He brushes the remnants of tears from his face, avoiding Gerard’s eyes. “Good thing you got here when you did, huh?”

“I’m so sorry--” Gerard starts again. Frank gently hits his chest. 

“I’m okay. Seriously, dude, don’t apologize. Set me down?”

Gerard quickly puts him on his feet, face drawn. “Fuck, I-- Frank, are you sure you don’t want to leave? I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“I am not leaving,” Frank snaps. “What were those things, Bert? You got a good look, right?”

“I don’t know exactly. Whatever they were, they were completely covered in the guano. It was writhing around all over them. Gerard, we have to keep them away from Frank at all costs. If one of them does more than touches him briefly--”

“Dude, okay, I get it. They’ll burn me again. Big fucking deal, you can just heal me.”

“You can’t have that type of attitude about it, Frank!” Bert says, obviously frustrated. “If I don’t get to you in time, you could die, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about that. I can’t bring you back. You’d be gone.”

Frank swallows but presses on stubbornly. “Look, man, I can’t let that scare me away. If these things start going after other people, what happens then? They could fucking decimate this campus. I’m not gonna let that happen. These are my classmates and my friends.”

“I admire your dedication, but you’re being stupid and reckless about this. You need to be more careful. No going anywhere alone unless one of us is with you. No going outside at all until one of us checks it out.”

“Fuck, okay, fine, but you need to fucking understand that I’m going to stay here until all of this is over. There isn’t a chance in the entire goddamn world that I’m leaving while there’s any danger to this campus.”

Bert’s glare falters and he steps forward, pulling Frank into a tight hug. “Don’t let me lose you, you hear me? Take care of yourself. You’re living through this.”

Frank hugs back, his throat tightening. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

Gerard’s gentle fingers trace patterns on his back, their heat noticeable even through his shirt. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

“I know that,” Frank responds with far more confidence than he feels. “It’s gonna be okay, guys.”

“Why don’t we get some rest tonight?” Bert suggests, pulling away. “We can all use it. We’ll tackle the books tomorrow.”

Frank nods and lifts the stack of books from his bed, placing them on the corner of his desk. “We, um, only have two beds. Two of us will have to share.”

“I’ll share with you, Frank,” Gerard says quickly. “Bert can have my bed.”

Bert’s expression tightens but he nods his assent. 

Gerard swings himself up onto Frank’s thin mattress and stretches, his silk shirt riding up and showing a pale sliver of skin. “Mm, coming?”

Bert blinks several times and then turns away. “Goodnight.”

Frank shrugs off his shirt, aware of Gerard’s eyes on his newly exposed skin. “Do either of you want anything to sleep in?”

Bert shakes his head, still facing the wall. “I’m good.”

Gerard smirks at Frank. He unbuttons his shirt and balls it up, tossing it onto the nearest chair. Frank tears his gaze away as Gerard’s hand moves to his belt. 

“Nope, I’m fine,” Gerard says, a hint of amusement coloring his words. Frank blushes and kicks off his jeans, quickly tugging on a pair of threadbare pajama pants. He hopes neither of them mention the teenage mutant ninja turtles pattern. 

“Cool,” Frank says breathlessly, climbing into bed next to Gerard, who is now clad only in his tight black boxers. He reaches over and switches off the lamp.

Gerard’s arms curl around his waist and gently pull him close. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Frank echoes, grateful for the dim lighting. 

“Are you okay? I know today’s been really rough,” Gerard murmurs, his fingers tracing random shapes on Frank’s back. 

“I’m fine,” Frank says in an equally soft tone. “A little unsettled, maybe, but okay. What about you?”

Gerard hesitates. “I’m okay. You scared the shit out of me, though. I really am sorry.”

Frank sighs and taps Gerard’s chest. “Don’t be sorry, seriously. I’ll fucking deck you next time you try to apologize for something that wasn’t your fault.”

Even in the dark, he can sense Gerard’s smile. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Bert’s words seem like they’re coming from a long way off, even though there’s barely four feet of space between the beds. 

Gerard stiffens slightly. “Really?”

“Really. Go to sleep.”

Frank takes advantage of Gerard’s surprise and moves closer, cuddling against his chest. “Sleeping’s a good idea, man.”

Gerard ducks his head and brushes a kiss as soft as a whisper to Frank’s temple. “You’re right. Get some rest.”

It takes a long time for Frank to fall asleep.

The research starts that next morning. Bert grabs one of the books at random and retreats back to Gerard’s bed, where he sits hunched over against the wall for the next few hours without interacting with either Gerard or Frank. Frank sits at his desk with a book of his own, and Gerard sprawls out on the floor, his shoulder pressing against Frank’s shin as he flips through a tome with at least a thousand pages.

“Any luck?” Frank asks after several hours of silent reading, lowering his book and rubbing his eyes with stiff fingers. 

Bert shakes his head, his mouth tight. Gerard tips his face up and leans closer, shaking his head as well. Frank resists the urge to run his fingers through Gerard’s hair.

“Nothing,” Gerard murmurs. “Take a break if you need it.”

Frank smiles down at him. “You too, man. And you, Bert. This isn’t exactly light reading.”

“Tell me about it,” Gerard responds, sneering at his book. “This shit has the audacity to read like even the author was bored. Honestly, why the hell would you choose to write a book if you weren’t actually interested in the subject? I could do ten times better.”

“When all this is over, I’m definitely going to use this fucking research for a school project. I’ll know more than most of my professors at this rate.”

Bert makes a rather undignified noise as he attempts to hold back a laugh. “This book just claimed that there’s evidence for a Biblical flood. They’re about eighty thousand years late. The flood was caused by a lesser god from the Mediterranean.”

“Wait, what?”

“Seriously, he’s so fucking dry,” Gerard complains like Bert hadn’t just spoken. “I’ve never read anything this boring, and I’ve been alive for ages.”

“Dude, just, trade with me or something,” Frank responds, reaching down to switch out their books. “Bert, are you serious?”

“Yeah, the flood actually happened. Only in that specific area, though. He got pissed and made sea levels rise. Of course, he wasn’t very powerful, so it only rose like five feet. Covered miles and pissed a lot of other gods off. He didn’t live very long after that.”

“You can kill gods?”

“Yep. It’s pretty hard, though, since they’re so powerful.”

“You don’t think that’s what happened to the Light, do you?” Gerard interjects. “Shit, Frank, thanks. This book’s way easier.”

“No problem,” Frank murmurs absentmindedly, trying to read.

“I really hope not,” Bert says. He glances up from his book, biting his lip. “I think we would’ve felt that if it happened, you know? Since we’re connected to Them.”

“Yeah, maybe. I--” Gerard breaks off as the floor shakes. “Shit, shit, Frank, get under your desk.”

Frank immediately slides under it, his arms moving up to cover his head. The quake is worse than yesterday’s. “God,” he hisses. “This is so fucked up.”

Something falls from the windowsill and shatters. Frank squeezes his eyes shut.

Gerard scoots under the desk as well, pushing Frank forward and settling in behind him. He pulls Frank back so he’s pressing against his chest. “It’s okay. The quake isn’t bad enough to be dangerous. We’ve got you.”

As soon as the room stops trembling, Bert strides to the window and reaches down. “Frank, your thing broke. The glass statue.”

“Just throw it out,” Frank mumbles, waving a hand vaguely in Bert’s direction. “It doesn’t matter.”

Gerard runs a calming hand through Frank’s hair, his fingers carefully untangling a knot. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Frank says quietly. He leans into Gerard’s touch. “I’m just tired. It’s been a wild couple of days.”

He can feel Gerard’s chest rising and falling. It’s surprisingly grounding. 

“When all this is over, we can leave you alone,” Gerard offers. “I know you’re probably tired of us, and I wouldn’t blame you for wanting something more normal.”

“Don’t you dare. Both of you need to stick around for a while once this ends, okay? I don’t know if I want things to go back to normal yet.”

Gerard’s hand pauses in Frank’s hair, and he tips his head forward to rest it against Frank’s shoulder. “We can stick around, then. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Frank agrees, glad Gerard can’t see his expression. He’s fairly sure it would show too much of what he’s feeling.

A brief aftershock rolls through the room. Gerard pulls him closer.

Frank can’t stop a tiny smile from crossing his face. “Hey, can either one of you travel? Like, teleport or something?”

“Bert can,” Gerard says. “You aren’t reconsidering leaving, are you?”

“Nope. Not at all. I was just thinking-- when all this ends, why don’t we go somewhere else for a weekend? I think we deserve a vacation.”

Gerard grins against his shoulder. “I agree. Bert, any suggestions?”

“Somewhere Frank hasn’t been before.” Bert kneels next to the desk, pressing his knee to Frank’s thigh. “Somewhere relaxing.”

“I haven’t been most places,” Frank admits. “Just Jersey, New York, and here in Alabama.”

Gerard lifts his head. “Wait, really? We can go anywhere, then.”

“Maybe Ireland? Or New Zealand? Or somewhere with tons of mountains? I’ve never actually been in the mountains.”

“Looks like we’ll have to take a lot of weekend vacations,” Bert says, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m going to keep reading. I think the quakes are done for now.”

Frank nodded and reluctantly slips from Gerard’s arms. “Me too. Are we, like, looking for anything in particular, or are we just learning as much as possible?”

“At this point we’re just learning. If you see anything that looks familiar, let us know.”

“I haven’t seen shit so far,” Frank sighs, stretching as he stands. He grabs his book from the desk and crawls onto his bed. “It’ll take us all week to get through these books.”

“Maybe,” Bert agrees.

It takes them exactly six days to finish the stack of books. 

Frank slams the last book shut and lets his head fall back against Gerard’s thigh. “That fucking sucked,” he says with feeling. “I’ve never read that much in my life.”

Gerard snorts and tugs at Frank’s hair playfully. He pulls a bit too hard as yet another quake hits. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Frank waits for the shaking to stop before rolling over and pressing his face into Gerard’s stomach. “I hate this so goddamn much. I wish something would just happen, you know? Basically anything would be better than waiting for this god to show itself.”

“Nah, I can live with this,” Gerard says, laughing softly. “I can handle earthquakes. It wouldn’t be terrible if everything just stayed like this. Better than having to face off against some unknown deity.”

“But we know it’s coming. I just hate waiting for shit like this to happen. It makes me feel so helpless. There’s nothing I can do, and I know there’s a very real chance that it’ll win and I’ll get killed, or one of you will get killed, and I just--”

“Hey, don’t think like that,” Gerard says. His fingers tighten in Frank’s hair. “You’re going to survive this. We all will.”

The ground rolls violently for what must be the tenth time that day. Frank presses closer.

“Frank, you need to eat something,” Bert says. “You haven’t left this room since Friday, and you finished your last pack of ramen yesterday. What can I get for you?”

“Not hungry.” 

“Hey.” Bert’s calloused fingers brush Frank’s hair away from his forehead. “You need to keep your strength up. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I honestly don’t think I can eat.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “You need to try anyway, okay? If you quit eating you’ll be too weak to fight.”

Frank sighs, nodding slightly. “Do I have to get up?”

Bert chuckles. “Nah, I’ll get it for you. What do you want?”

“Whatever. Probably something with actual nutrients in it, I think my stomach’s gonna kill me if I try to eat another pack of ramen. A salad or something?”

“I can do that.”

“Sounds good, man. And some water, I guess.”

Bert sets a hand on his back for a moment. “Things are going to be okay, Frank. I promise.”

Frank finally lifts his head, blinking and pushing his hair out of his face. “I really hope so. I don’t want everything to end like this.”

“It won’t,” he says firmly. “I’ll be back in ten minutes with your food.”

He comes back in two, empty handed and breathing hard.

“What’s wrong?” Gerard asks, his body stiffening against Frank’s. “Bert, what’s going on?”

“Those figures,” he pants. “They’re in a circle around campus. Something’s wrong.”

Frank’s stomach lurches. “Are they coming closer?”

“Not that I saw. They’re just standing there. Gerard, I think it’s time. We can’t keep sitting around.”

Gerard nods. “Frank, get up. We need to find you a weapon.”

Their process of finding a weapon is probably the coolest thing Frank has ever done. Bert measures his hand and arm and asks a ton of questions before he gives him a stick and tells him to swing it like he’d swing a sword. Frank immediately grabs it in both hands, unable to keep himself from grinning, and hits his wall as hard as he possibly can.

After a moment of stunned silence, Bert takes the now splintered stick from Frank. “So-- do you want a sword? Or would you prefer something heavier? I think you’d do well with a club.”

“Shit, you have those?” Frank asks, his eyes lighting up. “What do your clubs look like? Are they, like, what a troll would use? Or are they more refined or something?”

Bert grins at him. “Want to see?”

The clubs are gorgeous. Sleek and shiny metal, with ridges and grooves carved into them in curling patterns much like the embroidery on Bert’s clothes. He offers one of the larger ones to Frank, a calculating look playing over his face. “Try this one on for size.”

Frank lifts it, the weight catching him off guard. “That’s way heavier than I was expecting. I could probably use it, though.”

“Nope,” Bert says immediately, taking the club back and handing him another. This one is smaller, roughly the size and shape of a baseball bat, with a curved handle that fits Frank’s hand like a glove. 

This time, Frank is able to swing it with ease. He avoids the wall, though, assuming that the metal would cut into the cinder blocks. He didn’t want a repair charge. “Shit, this is so cool. Can I use this?”

“It’s perfect,” Bert says, nodding his assent. “Gerard, what have you got? Any weaponry?”

“I’ve got a dagger. I doubt that’ll be enough for whatever we’ll be facing, though.”

“What do you want?”

“A sword, if you have any extras.”

“I have a couple. How many hands?”

“I prefer single handed grips. Do you have something light like a side-sword? Or even a rapier?”

Bert nods and closes his eyes, concentrating for a moment before a collection of swords appear on Gerard’s bed. “Take your pick.”

Gerard grins, lifting a polished blade with a complex and curling hand guard. “This is gorgeous. Perfect. Thank you.”

Bert waves his hand and the unclaimed weapons vanish. He draws his own blade from its sheath at his side and runs a finger along the edge. “Keep your dagger with you just in case.”

He nods. “We still have no idea what we’re facing, do we?”

“We know it’s old and powerful. There’s not much else to go on, you know?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” Gerard says. “I just wish we had a warning. If it ends up being too much for us--”

“It won’t be,” Bert interrupts. He meets Gerard’s eyes steadily. “We’ve done everything we possibly can. We’ll be okay.”

Frank steps closer, still grinning. “Hey, man, it really will be okay. You’ve never seen me in a fight. I’m gonna beat the shit out of this thing.”

Gerard smiles at him and touches his shoulder. “I don’t doubt it. You need to be careful, though. If this thing is made of the same acid, you need to get out of here. I’m not going to watch you get hurt again.”

“You don’t think it’ll be acidic, do you?” Frank asked, mildly worried. “I don’t know how we could fight it. Unless we took a pressure hose to it.”

“That definitely isn’t the worst idea you’ve had,” Bert says. “For now, though, Gerard’s right. If the god poses an immediate danger to your health, you need to go back inside and let us handle it.”

“No way!” Frank protests. “I’m not leaving you alone. If the god can burn me, I’ll fucking deal with it. I’m not gonna run and hide.”

“Frank--” Bert starts, but Frank shakes his head.

“I mean it. You can’t stop me from fighting. This is my fucking home, and I’m not about to hide and let it go to shit.”

“You’re human!” Gerard steps closer to Frank. “You’re mortal. You can be hurt so much easier than we can. Don’t you get that?”

“I get it, but I don’t fucking care. I’ll take care of myself, okay? I won’t take any stupid risks.”

“No, you won’t take any stupid risks, cause you’ll go inside if things get bad!” Gerard snaps, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t get yourself killed, dumbass. That’s not your job.”

Frank’s fingernails dig into his palm as he curls his hands into fists. “Don’t tell me what to do, Gerard. I’m not going inside.”

“Why not? Why won’t you be careful?”

“You don’t know me at all if you think that I’d hide while my friends face this shit alone. I’m no fucking coward.”

“Protecting your life isn’t cowardice.”

“I will never fucking forgive myself if I stay out of this fight!”

“And I’ll never forgive myself if you get killed because of it.”

Bert sets a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, the movement cautious. “We won’t let him get hurt, Gerard. It’s going to be okay.”

Gerard’s eyes grow glossy. He tugs away, never breaking eye contact with Frank. “I refuse to watch it hurt you again. I can’t.”

“And it won’t,” Frank breathes. “I promise you, Gerard, I won’t let it touch me.”

Gerard opens his mouth to respond, but freezes as the entire room rocks. 

It’s by far the strongest earthquake Frank has felt so far, and his knees buckle as an earsplitting groaning noise fills the air. As the walls begin to shake around them, Bert’s hand grasps his shoulder tightly and pulls him close, scarlet wings erupting in a wide protective arc. Just in time, too. The floor splits in a wide, ragged gash, exposing the bedroom directly underneath them. Instinctively, Frank jerks away from the cleft, but manages only to slam into Bert’s chest. 

“Go, go!” Bert yells, voice almost drowned out in the screech of the dorm. His arms wind around Frank’s waist. “Get out!”

Gerard curses loudly from behind them. Chest tight, Frank clamps his hands down on Bert’s arm. 

The room is shaking into pieces around them. Bert drags Frank to the door and jerks it open, pushing him into the hallway. Gerard follows them through the doorway right before Frank’s window shatters.

“Get outside!” Bert calls to Gerard, who nods, his face set and white. He’s clutching their weapons to his chest.

Frank’s frantically darting gaze locks onto his guitar less than a second before it falls through the floor. He chokes on air filled with dust. 

“Go, go, go!”

Somehow they make it down the stairs and out onto the campus green. Frank falls hard onto the grass as he coughs, eyes streaming. He scrambles away from his dorm. 

Everything stills. 

“Frank? Frank, are you okay?”

The words are muffled. Frank’s ears ring.

“Frank!”

“What?” he gasps finally, shaking his head to clear it and looking up. 

Both Gerard and Bert are kneeling next to him, their eyes wide. 

“Are you okay?” Bert asks again, his forehead creased. “Were you hurt? Can you breathe?”

Frank takes an experimental breath. “I think I’m okay. Are you?”

Gerard nods, gently brushing away some of the dust that has collected on Frank’s shirt. “We’re fine. You look-- Frank, are you sure you’re okay? You’re so pale.”

He leans his head on Gerard’s shoulder, blinking rapidly. “I’m good.”

“What’s wrong?” Gerard murmurs. “I know that was frightening, love.”

“I’m not fucking scared,” Frank says, his voice lacking any venom. “I just-- I saved for months to buy that guitar. It fell as we were leaving.”

“We’ll get you a new one. Promise.” Bert lifts Frank’s hand. He watches as a scrape on his palm closes up.

“Sorry. I know it’s a dumb thing to be upset about.” 

“Not at all,” Gerard says, resting his temple against Frank’s head. “It was important to you.”

Frank nodded. “I’m glad you guys are here. I couldn’t handle all this shit if you weren’t.”

Gerard pulls him closer in response. 

“We need to go,” Bert says. He squeezes Frank’s hand and pulls him to his feet. “I don’t want to be out in the open like this, especially since those entities could still be surrounding us.”

“Where? Frank’s dorm is obviously out of the question. We could try the library again if it’s not destroyed, maybe?”

Frank shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to be anywhere with more than one story. We could, uh… there’s always the Honors House. It’s at the edge of campus.”

“Honors House it is.” Bert catches Frank’s wrist. “Stay close, okay? I don’t know how far the figures are.”

“I will,” Frank promises, accepting his club from Gerard’s outstretched hand. He forces a smile and turns to go.

Something groans.

It’s a stuttering, drawn out moan, accompanied by a metallic screech and a slow scraping sound. Frank freezes. 

“What was that?” Gerard asks, hushed. “Do you see anything?”

Frank turns back around, staring at his dorm. “It sounds like it’s coming from inside. You don’t think someone’s trapped in there, do you?”

“I have no idea.” Bert squeezes Frank’s shoulder. “We need to go. It isn’t safe.”

“What if somebody needs help? We can’t just go, man.”

“Frank--” Bert starts, but Frank ignores him and takes a step closer to the dorm. 

“Hello? Is everyone okay?” Something moves inside the dorm, and Frank takes another step. “Do you need--”

His voice dies in his throat as the movement continues, a figure coming into focus in the dim entry. The groan rings out again, louder, more insistent. 

“Bert… do you see that?”

The figure shuffles forward. Right before it reaches the shattered glass doors, its foot lands in a patch of sunlight. The foot is huge and deformed, covered in fur and caked in dirt and dust. A set of wickedly sharp claws protrude from the toes, scraping against the concrete as the creature takes another step. 

“Bert?”

“Run.”

Another deformed appendage slams against the metal doorframe. The little glass left clinging to it falls in a tinkling crash. 

Frank runs.

In fact, Frank sprints as fast as he possibly can. His heart hammers, and his breath jackknifes in his lungs, but the thought of that… thing inside his dorm is enough to spur him to even greater speeds. He wants to look back, wants to make sure Bert and Gerard are behind him, wants to make sure the creature _isn’t_, but his terror keeps his body focused on only one thing: getting the fuck out of Dodge. __

A bit of gravel catches the edge of his foot, and he stumbles but stays upright. Only one thought running through his head is clear: he has to get off the sidewalk, has to get inside where he’ll have the advantage. If this thing comes after him, it’ll have less room to maneuver. He makes a split second decision and turns on his heel to dart into the library, slamming against the heavy wooden doors and practically falling through them as they fly open. The dimly lit rows of shelving are a welcome sight, and he scrambles his way into them, limbs shaking and throat burning, falling to his knees once he’s out of eyeshot of the entry.

Frank presses his back against the solid end of the nearest shelf. He can’t breathe, can’t calm down enough to draw in a full breath of air. God, please not an asthma attack. Not now, for the first time in years. Not now with that thing on campus. In an attempt to ground himself, he grasps his legs, digging his fingernails into the denim.

After a minute of panting, he’s able to let his fingers unclench. They’re white and stiff, but he doesn’t feel like he’ll pass out from lack of air anymore. Frank decides to take that as a positive and risks a quick glance between the rows of books. 

The front doors are shut tightly. There’s absolutely no sign of Bert or Gerard. His chest seizes again.

“Bert?” Frank whispers, his voice shaking and hoarse. “Gee?”

The library stays nearly silent, the only sound the buzzing of the flickering fluorescent bulbs high above his head. He rolls back onto his knees, fingers curling around the handle of his club. Gingerly pushing himself to his feet, he takes a hesitant step towards the doors.

Something brushes against them. It’s soft, barely there, but it stops Frank in his tracks. 

He slowly backs up, attempting to keep his breathing calm and regulated. The door opens less than an inch, then eases back into place with a quiet thud. 

Frank jumps back behind the shelves and squeezes his eyes shut, praying it’s Bert. Or the wind. Or even another student. Anything but what he saw in his dorm.

The doors let out a prolonged creak and Frank’s eyes fly open. He grips the club tightly as the squeal of hinges fades away, his forearm trembling. 

Silence, silence for a moment, silence that embraces him in a horrifying ‘_what if_…’. Frank swallows, moving to the edge of the shelf at a snail’s pace. He can’t look around it. Not till whatever just opened the door makes itself known.__

The quiet shatters with something scraping against the floor and a soft panting that shoots ice into Frank’s veins and launches a wave of prickling goosebumps onto his neck. That definitely isn’t Bert. 

A single lightbulb dies near the entrance. Frank, so slowly he’s certain he’ll be caught by this thing, retreats into the rows of shelves. He can’t even start to think about fighting this by himself, but -- if Bert and Gerard aren’t with him, what choice does he have? 

He chokes back a sob, shuddering. He can’t make noise. 

The scraping moves closer, and Frank twitches, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut. Those are the claws he saw. Nothing else could make that peculiar, uniquely terrifying mix of clacks and screeches. It’s so close, moving nearer and growing louder with each second that drags by.

Frank presses his free hand flat against the shelf, his fingertips seeking out the grain. For the first time since he was eleven years old, he wants to pray the Rosary.

_Hail Mary, full of grace_.__

The creature casts a faint shadow onto the floor as it moves ever closer. The flickering lights tumble the edges of the shadow around, and Frank can’t tear his eyes away from the advancing patch of darkness.

_The Lord is with thee_.__

It must be farther away than he thought. Several books tumble off the shelf a few rows back, and the wood creaks alarmingly. 

_Blessed art thou among women_. __

The panting, although quiet, fills his ears until he can hear nothing but the sluggishly approaching being. 

_And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus_.__

The bulb by the entrance rejoins the land of the living with a low buzz and wash of fluorescence. The scraping pauses for a moment but quickly resumes.

_Holy Mary, Mother of God_.__

The shadow is growing. Frank isn’t certain how big the creature is, but it must be bigger than he had first estimated if it’s still so far away while casting a shadow of that size. He’s so screwed.

_Pray for us sinners_.__

He finally rips his eyes away from the floor. There’s no time to watch the creature approach. He needs to get away, somehow. Somehow.

_Now and at the hour of our death_. __

Frank’s wildly searching gaze falls on the club in his hand. His chest feels cold. There’s a chance, right there, but if it goes wrong… it won’t. It can’t. His lungs constrict, every breath a chore. The shelf pressed against him rocks as the creature bumps into the other end. He has to take the chance.

_Amen_.__

Frank lifts the club, hefts it for a moment while he gathers his courage, and then spins on his heel and throws it. The metal smashes into a shelf on the far side of the room. For a terrifying moment, everything is still, and bile rises in his throat. If it saw him throw the club… 

The creature charges. It barrels after the club, claws screaming against the floor. Frank isn’t sure that he’s ever seen anything move that fast before, and he feels even sicker, but he has to stick with his plan. He turns and runs for the entrance.

The echo of every footfall sends a new wave of panic through his veins, but he shoves his way through the doors and bolts onto the lawn. 

“Frank? Frank!”

Frank keeps running and turns his head, desperately hunting for the owner of the voice. He almost collapses when he sees Bert waving at him from behind one of the many bushes planted around campus. 

“Frank, come on!”

He changes course and dives behind the bush, his hands shaking. “Bert, fuck, it’s inside the library. It followed me. I--”

“Are you hurt?”

Frank has never heard Bert sound so frantic. “What? No, no, just-- it’s going to come back. It’s so big.”

“We need to find Gerard.” Bert takes a shaky breath and touches Frank’s arm. “I’m so sorry we let it follow you, Frank, that was never my intention. We won’t let it near you again.”

“Where is Gerard?” Frank pants. “I haven’t seen him anywhere.”

Bert squeezes his arm and stands, peering around the edge of the bush. “We’ll find him. Are you sure you don’t want to leave? It’s not too late.”

“Not leaving. Not without you and Gerard.”

A wry smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Okay. Come on, I think he ran toward the laboratory. Let’s go get him before the god returns.”

Gerard is fairly easy to find. He’s taken shelter behind a low wall next to the lab, and he grabs Frank’s leg as they pass. “Oh, thank fuck.”

Frank lets out an embarrassing yelp but tugs Gerard into a tight hug once he recovers. “Shit, I’m so glad you’re okay. I left the god in the library. Lost my club, but was able to get out.”

“Frank, you were closest to it,” Bert says, tapping his shoulder. “It’s animalistic, yes? Did you get a good look at its face?”

“No, just the shadow. And its foot -- paw, I guess. It was like… god, you’ll think I’m ridiculous, but I could’ve sworn it was a giant cat. Giant as in, like, over ten feet tall. It was walking on two feet, though, so I’m probably wrong, but. It had fur on its paw, and claws, and I could see the shadow of ears and a snout.”

Gerard’s lips part slightly. “Giant cat? Could it have been a lioness?”

“I guess? The fur was the right color. Why? Do you know what it is?”

“Löwenmensch.”

“Oh no,” Bert breathes. “Do you think so?”

“Wait, what?” Frank glances between them. “What’s Löw- uh, Löwen--”

“Löwenmensch. The so called ‘Lion-Man’ of the Hohlenstein-Stadel. It was--”

“Wait, I’ve heard about that,” Frank interrupts. He decides not to mention he only heard about it while reading random CNN articles to procrastinate studying for his finals. “It was a statue found someplace in Europe, yeah? Italy, wasn’t it?”

“Germany, but that’s not the point. Löwenmensch - the god, not the statue - is the earth’s first true god. It terrorized the first humans, ages before we were born. Shit, Bert, if you guys managed to raise it--”

“Not my fault,” Bert interjects.

“--we’re totally fucked,” Gerard continues, ignoring him. “I don’t know how to take this thing down.”

“It could be that it’s been weakened by its time underground. Our best bet may be to go for the kill.”

“The kill? How the fuck do we kill it?” Frank asks, anxiously chewing at his lower lip. “It was huge. And fast. And it’s a god.”

“I don’t believe it has any major powers,” Bert says thoughtfully. “It’s been dormant for tens of thousands of years. It can’t be that strong.”

Frank blinks incredulously. “It sent acidic paint after me. And basically totaled my dorm.”

“My point is, it isn’t indestructible. We should go for a three pronged attack. Frank, you’ll-- no, you won’t. Not without a weapon. Gerard, it’ll just be us. Two prongs, one from the front, one from a flank.”

“Give me another fucking weapon, then! I’m not letting the two of you take this thing on by yourself.”

“No.” Gerard steps closer and presses one of his gentle and feverish hands to Frank’s cheek. “You’re going to stay right here, behind the wall. If it looks like we’ll fall, I want you to run and call law enforcement, call anyone that can help you. You’re our final line of defense.”

“No,” Frank whispers, shaking his head. “No, no, I won’t do that, I can’t. Give me a goddamn weapon, Bert.”

The library doors slam open, and Gerard tugs away. “Too late. Stay here.”

Frank sees the god in its entirety for the first time and involuntarily rocks back on his heels. “Oh fuck--”

He can’t think of anything else to say. It’s as tall as the second story windows in the library, probably fifteen to twenty feet high, and is a hulking mass of matted and dirty tan fur. It walks on a set of twisted hind legs, back hunched to one side, limbs long and dangling, each one ending in a gigantic paw tipped with claws that have got to be as long as Bert’s sword. Its snout is broad and crooked, with teeth like a gator’s protruding from the mouth. One eye is milky white, the other black and beady and furious. 

Frank’s mouth goes dry, but there’s no way he can let Bert and Gerard face this on their own. “Weapon. Now.”

Movement off to the side catches Frank’s eye for a moment, and he glances over to see the black, swirling figures advancing. He chokes back a whimper and shrinks against the brickwork. The figures halt in a perfect circle, closing off the campus green completely. 

Bert closes his eyes. “It doesn’t want us to leave.”

“Then we’ll just have to make it let us go,” Gerard returns, lifting his chin defiantly. “It’ll be okay.”

“I need a weapon,” Frank repeats. He swallows hard. 

Löwenmensch takes a step forward. Gerard lifts his sword, face pale and determined. “I’ll take the right. Bert, watch out for those claws.”

Everything is moving too quickly for Frank to process. He grabs Gerard’s arm. “Give me a fucking weapon!”

Gerard shrugs his hand off. “Stay safe.”

Each breath comes faster than the one before. “No, guys, please, don’t do this. Not alone. Please, give me a weapon, please--”

Gerard stands. He stalks around the low wall, knuckles white on the leather handle of his sword. Bert scrambles to his feet and follows, wings flaring out from the center of his back, head held high. Frank bites back a helpless sob.

“Löwenmensch!” Bert’s fearless call echoes off the walls surrounding them. “We’ll give you one chance to return to the earth. You don’t belong here anymore. This is not your world, and it never will be.”

The god snarls in response, low, guttural, and chilling. It shuffles forward, dropping to all fours. Every step leaves gouges in the lawn.

Bert steps forward as well, sword pointing diagonally at the ground, movements loose and confident. Gerard slinks off to the side, dropped nearly into a crouch, his blade held unwaveringly at Löwenmensch. 

Frank grasps the edge of the brick wall. His fingers dig into the crumbling mortar, powdered concrete sliding up underneath his nails. No, no, _no_…__

He should be out there with them. His legs tense underneath him, muscles shaking. He has to get up.

Bert springs at the beast. His blade flashes, bites into matted fur, and Frank holds his breath, spirits rising, waiting for the god’s inevitable collapse. 

Instead of letting loose a howl of pain, Löwenmensch bellows and swipes out, claws catching on Bert’s sword. He yanks it free with a muffled exclamation and backpedals. Frank’s stomach drops.

The god presses its advantage and chases after Bert, giving him no time to recover. Gerard takes several hurried steps closer, but he’s still too far away. Much too far away; Bert’s heel catches on the edge of a sidewalk and he stumbles back. Löwenmensch growls and lashes out. The back of its paw glances off Bert’s shoulder.

Bert goes down hard, back slamming against a low wall. His face contorts. He collapses onto his side, coughing, halfheartedly reaching for his sword, although there’s no hope of retrieving it. The blade gleams mockingly in the grass about twenty feet away.

Löwenmensch lumbers toward him, mouth gaping open. Bert glares at it.

Frank pushes himself to his feet, eyes widening. “Bert--”

“No.” Gerard spits. He stalks toward the god. “No!” 

Löwenmensch stills, turning its head in Gerard’s direction. Bert throws another desperate look at his sword and starts to inch closer to it. 

“That’s right.” Gerard’s words are vindictive and mocking, delivered almost casually even as he gestures with his sword. “Come and get me, you motherfucker.” He takes another step.

For a single, wild moment, Frank feels in his bones that everything will be okay.

Löwenmensch twists its upper body around and catches Gerard square in the chest with its claws. There’s a horrible, sickening ripping noise, a choked exclamation tinged with pain, and Gerard is slammed off of his feet and tossed several feet away like he’s nothing more than a rag doll. He hits the ground hard and doesn’t move at all.

When Löwenmensch turns back around, its claws are dyed a deep red. 

Frank’s moving before he knows what’s happening. He charges for Bert’s abandoned sword, his vision blurring and the acrid taste of bile rising in his throat. The hilt is cool and surprisingly grounding as his hand closes around it, and he sprints at Löwenmensch as the first hot tears spill over his cheeks. 

The god raises its foreleg again, claws still glistening red. Bert slumps back against the wall, pale as death. 

Frank can’t lose him too. He springs forward, raising Bert’s sword above his head, a sound halfway between a shout and a sob tearing from his throat. The swordpoint catches the god directly in the lower back. 

For a terrifying moment, Frank can’t push the blade forward. He shoves a bit harder, panic fueling his movements. He hears a nauseating, wet cracking noise and the resistance disappears, the sword sliding home to the hilt through the center of its spine. 

Löwenmensch staggers, grunts, sways. Frank scrambles away as quickly as he approached, waiting for it to turn on him. But the attack never comes. It collapses heavily onto its left side, a pained rattle echoing from its chest, and goes still. In their ring around the campus green, the figures melt into the dirt. 

Frank slowly, slowly relaxes his hand from its fist around the sword’s handle. His fingers are stiff. The sound of the god’s spine splitting in two won’t leave his ears. As the bile crawling up his throat finishes its journey, he drops the blade and falls to his knees, coughing and retching into the grass. 

As soon as he can move, he stumbles to Gerard. “Gee?” he gasps, voice raw. “Gerard, are you okay?”

For a moment, Frank thinks he might be too late. Gerard is still and pale, his torso a mess of gore. He stifles a sob. “Gee?”

Gerard stirs and blinks up at him, eyes hazy with pain. “Did--” he breaks off, coughing wetly. “Did you win? Is Bert okay?”

Frank nods, taking one of Gerard’s hands with both of his trembling ones. “We did it. It’s over, Gee. C’mon, you’re going to be okay.”

Bert limps up to them, one hand pressed firmly to his ribcage. Frank shoots a terrified glance at him.

“Gerard…” Bert makes an awful, choked noise, falling to his knees beside them. “Oh, you idiot, why would you do that? I can’t--”

“I know,” Gerard interrupts. “I know you can’t heal me. It’s okay.”

“It’s not even close to okay!” Bert shrugs off his shirt, ignoring the rips and grass stains, and presses it against Gerard’s stomach. It’s soaked in seconds. “Frank-- who can we call? Please, please get him help, I can’t fix this.”

“Shhh,” Gerard breathes, reaching out to brush his fingers against Bert’s face. “Frank, ‘s no use. It’s okay.”

Frank can’t hold back his next sob. “Gee, no, don’t-- don’t say that.”

He wouldn’t need to call the paramedics, regardless; the first sirens are already audible in the distance. He prays they’re fast enough.

Gerard lets his hand fall from Bert’s face, wincing. “Bert. I’m sorry. So fucking sorry, for everything, I--”

“No,” Bert says, shaking his head. He grasps Gerard’s hand. “You aren’t going to apologize. Not now, not ever. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Gerard takes another laborious breath. It rattles and he coughs, a thin red bubble appearing on his lips. “Take care of Frank, okay? Don’t let anyone fuck him over.”

“Gee--” Frank cuts himself off, his voice wobbling. “Hold on, okay? Help’s almost here.”

Bert’s expression twists in agony. “Gerard, please don’t make me-- I can’t lose you. Not again.”

“It’s okay,” Gerard insists again. “I--” he trails off, his breathing growing increasingly shallow. “I’m not upset. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Frank shakily brushes Gerard’s hair out of his eyes. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

Gerard gives them a small grin, his teeth bloodied. His eyes flutter closed. “It’s okay.”

Bert stills for a moment and then lets out a pained groan. He lunges forward and presses both hands to Gerard’s chest. “No.”

Gerard’s whole body tenses and he _screams_, fingers scrabbling at the dirt, arching up against Bert’s touch. Frank reaches out in horror, a fresh wave of tears spilling from his eyes. He cradles Gerard’s face a split second before he goes limp again.__

This time, when Gerard breathes in, the sound is easy. He moans quietly and reaches up to touch his own chest, pushing away the sopping bandage. It leaves red smears behind on a plane of unbroken skin. Frank’s terror drains away. 

“Bert?” The word is shaky, disbelieving. Gerard looks up at Bert, one hand still held protectively over his shredded shirt.. “What did you do?”

“I couldn’t let you go,” Bert chokes out, trembling. “I couldn’t, Gerard. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Gerard sits up and reaches for him, eyes wide and shining. He tangles a hand in Bert’s hair and leans forward, pulling him in for a desperate kiss.

Frank feels it like a hand squeezing his lungs.

“Gerard,” Bert murmurs, wrapping a shaking hand around the back of his neck. “Oh, my love, I--”

Gerard kisses him again. 

Frank tears his eyes away from their lips and pushes himself to his feet. His clothes are still soaked with blood. He takes a few stumbling steps away and then stops short, heart thudding in his chest, as the door to the science center creaks open. 

A quick glance to his right reassures him that the god is still slumped on its side. His fears are allayed entirely when a girl glances through the cracked door, her eyes wide. 

“I-is it over?” she stammers, daring to open the door farther. “Is it gone?” 

“It’s gone,” Frank confirms. His voice is wrecked.

“What happened?”

A wave of inappropriate laughter bubbles up through Frank’s throat. He holds it back  
through sheer force of will. He has no idea how to explain the day’s events.

“Do you know?”

He waves his hand dismissively, still trying not to laugh. “You look like a sorority girl, yeah? You know how it gets. One hell of a frat party.”

She stares at him, uncomprehending and blank, and he giggles and turns away. He doesn’t need to explain it. It doesn’t matter. It’s over.

Frank risks another glance at Gerard and Bert. They’re still wrapped up in each other, murmuring quietly. Bert has a hand pressed to Gerard’s cheek, right over the spot Frank’s hand had been a few minutes before. The giddiness in Frank’s veins evaporates, and he’s suddenly bone tired. He shakily steps away from them, fixing his eyes on the remains of his dorm room. 

It’s over. They won’t need him anymore.

On the walk back to his razed dorm, Frank keeps his gaze locked onto the rubble. It’s infinitely less painful than seeing the men he’s fallen for. 

He’s such an ass. He knows he is, knows that it’s awful to be hurt when they’ve finally fixed things between them. He should be nothing but grateful that Gerard is still breathing. And he is grateful, he is, but he can’t help but wanting more. He should’ve known better than to let himself start hoping that he might be wanted.

Debris crunches under his sneakers and he pauses by the shattered doors for a moment before stepping through them. The toe of one shoe glances off a piece of glass and it bounces away, ringing as it crashes into a chunk of metal. Everything is broken. The walls - those that are still standing - are cracked beyond repair, and every pane of glass in the lobby is shattered. The stairs are blocked off. 

Frank stares at the stairwell and holds back another wave of hysterical laughter. Everything he owned is gone. He swallows hard and hurriedly leaves the wreckage. 

It’s easier to circle the building than to stand in it. The outer walls are still (mostly) intact, and he can almost pretend that everything is the way it used to be. He kneels beside the bank of flowers and reaches out, brushing his fingers over petals that are free from streaks of poison. They’re white again, waving gently in the wind, safe to caress. He almost wants them to burn his hand again, if only so Bert would touch him.

He’s still kneeling in the dirt when he hears someone calling his name. He doesn’t want to answer, doesn’t want to see their pity. 

“Frank!”

It’s much closer this time, from right around the building. He clears his throat and responds with a defeated, “Here.”

“Frank, why--” Gerard rounds the corner, panting, and stills. “Frank?”

He looks up and meets Gerard’s eyes for a moment before looking down at the flowers again. “I, um. I didn’t know if you wanted any privacy.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounds foreign and stilted. 

“We haven’t wanted privacy from you before, why would we start now?” Gerard rebukes gently, crouching next to him. 

“Since you’re, uh, together?”

“Frank--”

Bert jogs around the corner as well, sword in hand. The blade is still coated in drying blood. Frank averts his eyes. 

“Where’d you go?” Bert asks. “Why didn’t you tell us? We didn’t know where you were, Frank, anything could’ve--” he cuts himself off. “Are you okay?”

Gerard sets a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “He’s not hurt, Bert. It’s okay.”

Frank picks a flower, fixing his eyes on the velvety petals. “I’m fine.”

Bert slowly approaches them and drops to one knee at Frank’s side. “Why did you leave?”

“I thought you might want me to,” Frank mumbles, still staring at the flower. He plucks two petals and lets them fall. He loves me, he loves me not. “You seemed like you needed privacy.”

“Frank, I--” Bert sounds genuinely confused. “Why would we want that?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, running a thumb over the broken stem. “Dunno.”

A feverish hand - Gerard’s - cups his cheek. He bites his lip, hard. 

“What do you want, Frank?” Gerard asks softly, shifting closer. “Is there something you aren’t telling us?”

Frank glances up at Bert. His stomach tightens. “I don’t know, I just, I can’t--” he covers his face, frustrated tears welling in his eyes. There’s no good way to explain why he left, not without giving everything away.

Bert’s calloused fingers latch onto Frank’s, tugging them away from his face. “Hey, love, don’t hide from us. You can tell us anything. You know that, right?”

“But I can’t,” Frank breathes before he can stop himself. 

“You can’t?”

“I can’t, because if I tell you, you’ll fucking leave, and I-- I can’t lose you. I’ve come far too close to losing you today. I can’t be the reason it happens.”

Gerard draws in a tiny breath. “Frank--”

“I can’t, so - please - don’t make me.”

“I don’t think there’s much you could say at this point that would convince us to leave you,” Bert murmurs. 

Frank scrubs roughly at his eyes, wishing they would just drop it. He never should’ve said anything in the first place.“Please.”

Bert and Gerard exchange a glance, and Gerard hesitantly moves closer, taking Frank’s face in both his hands. “Please let us make this right. Whatever it is.”

Despite himself, Frank’s eyes flutter closed and his lips part. He never wants Gerard to let go. “I don’t think you can.”

“We won’t leave,” Bert assures him. “Not unless you ask us to.”

Gerard swipes his thumb over Frank’s cheekbone, brushing away a tear that’s leaked from his lashes. “Baby--”

“Don’t call me that,” Frank whispers roughly. “Please. I can’t--”

Gerard’s hands go still against his face. 

He keeps his eyes closed. It’ll hurt less if he doesn’t have to watch them leave. “I guess I just-- I thought, for a moment, that just maybe-- maybe I was wanted. By you. Both of you. I… I wanted it to be real.”

And still, Gerard’s hands don’t move.

“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” he chokes out, swallowing. “I’m sorry.”

Finally, Gerard’s hands slide away from his face. He tries not to sob. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” This time it’s Bert’s hands cupping around his cheeks, smoothing away another tear. Frank’s eyes shoot open. 

“I--”

“Frank,” Gerard murmurs. His fingers curl around the back of Frank’s neck. “Did we really make you think that you weren’t wanted?”

Frank stares at him, heart thudding painfully in his chest. “What? Gerard, don’t-- don’t say that, not if you don’t mean it. Please, I can’t take that.” His voice trembles.

“Oh, love--” Bert jerks forward and kisses him.

He almost can’t process the sensation at first, frozen still. Bert’s mouth is warm and eager, and Gerard’s fingers are burning as they slide into his hair, and his stomach belatedly swoops. Bert pulls away after a moment, his forehead creasing.

“Are you--”

Frank pulls him close and kisses him again, messy, desperate, rough. His teeth clash against Bert’s. 

Bert slowly strokes a hand down Frank’s arm, soft and soothing. The kiss grows slower, Bert’s mouth coaxing lazily at Frank’s. 

Frank shivers, relaxing in their arms.

“Let me,” Gerard murmurs, touching Bert’s shoulder. Bert pulls away, leaving Frank gasping for breath for a few seconds before Gerard leans in to nip at his lower lip. 

Gerard kisses like fire, hard and hot and biting. All Frank can do is feel, letting out panting, desperate noises into Gerard’s mouth. 

“Oh, loves,” Bert murmurs, gently pressing his lips to Frank’s temple. Frank gasps quietly. 

Gerard finally pulls back, flushed red and breathing hard. “Frank, baby, you’re part of us. We never- it was never our intention to leave you out.”

“You really want me?” Frank manages to ask.

“So much.” Bert kisses his temple again, stroking his hair. “I just-- any relationship with us would be, for lack of a better term, abnormal. We want you if you’re prepared for that.”

Frank leans into his touch. “Literally nothing’s been normal since I met you. I know what I want, Bert, I don’t care about the difficulty.”

Bert presses another kiss to Frank’s forehead and then abruptly pulls back. “I-- listen, there’s something I need to do. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

Gerard frowns. “What are you doing?”

Bert tugs Gerard close and kisses him, close-mouthed and sweet. “I love you. I’ll tell you when I get back.”

He pushes himself to his feet and dusts off his pants, giving them a soft grin. “I’ll see you soon. Both of you.”

Frank opens his mouth, a question hovering on the tip of his tongue, and Bert is… gone. The grass, previously bent under his feet, springs back into place. “Bert?”

Gerard’s gone still and silent. 

“Gee, where’d he go?” Frank asks, his voice taking on a vaguely desperate sound. 

“I don’t know,” he admits in a whisper. “I-- I don’t fucking know.”

Two full days pass. 

Frank’s university move him and Gerard into a temporary dorm. It’s a bit smaller than his last room, with damaged sheetrock walls painted the same ugly beige as his old walls, and it’s on the ground floor. Frank doesn’t vocalise it, but he’s thankful. He wouldn’t be able to sleep in any room with a floor that could collapse several stories in an instant. 

Gerard spends the first day coming up with reasons that Bert might have left, all of them cautiously optimistic. Frank nods along and offers a few reasons of his own, unsure what else to do. Gerard takes them with a smile. It’s only a little bit forced.

Frank can’t take it anymore by the end of the second day. He can’t fall asleep, even with Gerard’s arms around him, and he sits up. The blanket and Gerard’s hand fall into his lap.

“Frank?” Gerard murmurs, sounding thick and sleepy. “You okay, baby?”

“It’s my fault.”

“What’s your fault?” Gerard sounds genuinely confused, and Frank swallows hard. 

“Bert leaving. If I hadn’t made a move--”

“Never fucking say that,” Gerard responds sharply, every bit of sleepiness falling away. He reaches across the bed and flicks the lamp on. “I don’t know why he left, Frankie, but it wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Frank shrugs, pulling his knees to his chest. He hugs them tightly and stares at the faded ninja turtles on his pajama pants. “You saw how happy he was, before. He didn’t want to look away from you. If I had stayed quiet, maybe he’d still be here.”

Gerard’s silent for a moment, then he shifts forward and wraps an arm around Frank’s waist. He rests his forehead on Frank’s shoulder. “Baby, this isn’t your fault. He’ll come back. I know he will. He’s not one to break promises.”

“I just don’t want to have ruined everything,” Frank says miserably, turning in Gerard’s arms. “What if he doesn’t come back?”

Gerard kisses his cheek, holding him close. “He will.” Despite the certainty of his words, his voice shakes slightly. 

“What if he doesn’t?” Frank repeats. 

“Then that’s his problem. I-- I love him, Frank. You know I do. But if he leaves for good, I’ll try to get over him and be good to you.”

“I don’t want you to have to pick,” Frank whispers back, pressing his face against Gerard’s neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, no. Don’t blame yourself, love. He’ll come back. And if he doesn’t, it was his choice. Not either of ours.”

Frank wishes he could believe him.

Gerard hesitates and then lifts Frank’s chin. “Baby, look at me. This isn’t your fault.”

He meets Gerard’s eyes, momentarily struck dumb by the open affection in his gaze. A slow wave of warmth starts in his chest. “It’s not?”

“It’s not,” Gerard confirms. He gently touches his thumb to Frank’s bottom lip. “You’re the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. He’d be a fool to leave what we have.”

Frank inadvertently lets a small sound escape his mouth, and Gerard leans forward to kiss him. “He’ll come back to us,” he murmurs against Frank’s lips. 

“I miss him.”

“Me too.” Gerard presses his face into Frank’s hair. “I had hoped--” he trails off momentarily. “I had hoped that I would never have to miss him again.”

Frank reaches up to cradle the back of Gerard’s head, fingers twisting in his hair. “I wish I knew what to do to fix this,” he says, voice catching. “You deserve so much better.”

Gerard sighs, breath tickling Frank’s neck. “You need to stop blaming yourself. He’ll be back. C’mon, baby, lie back down. You need sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” Frank retorts halfheartedly, but follows Gerard’s tugging hands and settles onto the mattress. Gerard switches the lamp off and immediately pulls him close. 

“If he doesn’t come back soon, I’ll go look for him,” Gerard murmurs. He kisses Frank’s shoulder. “Rest, love, I--”

The door creaks open. 

Frank stiffens, shrinking back into Gerard’s arms. Even though the hall is dark, he can almost see a set of gigantic claws. Or-- that movement, that looks like the gentle, ominous swaying of black tendrils. He draws in a shaking breath and balls his hands into fists. 

Gerard sits up, peering into the dark. He lays a hand on Frank’s chest and fumbles for the light with the other hand, turning the switch. “Who’s there?”

Bert lifts his hand to block out the sudden flood of light. 

Frank’s up and out of the bed in less than a second, his heart pounding as he throws his arms around Bert. “Where the hell did you go?” he asks fiercely, his eyes stinging. “Where were you?”

Gerard makes a choked noise behind them, rising at a slower pace. 

Bert hugs him back tightly, running his hands over Frank’s back, nonstop, like he’s desperate to touch. “I’m so sorry I was gone for so long, my love.” He kisses Frank’s forehead and looks over his shoulder at Gerard. “I’m done. I left.”

Frank hears another noise from Gerard and pulls away. Gerard’s mouth is open and his cheeks are flushed. 

“Left?” Gerard breathes. “Left what?”

“The service. I-- I should have done this millenia ago, Gerard, I’m so sorry. I should have followed you.”

Gerard takes a single, trembling step forward. “You left? For us?”

Bert nods. His face is more open than Frank’s ever seen it, filled with naked love and no small amount of fear. “I gave up my title. They let me keep my grace.”

Frank’s stomach swoops. “You-- you mean you aren’t going back to Heaven? You’re staying here?”

“I couldn’t go back, not after--” Bert trails off, his eyes never straying from Gerard’s face. “They admitted it. Gabriel got suspicious and set up a scrying ritual to watch you. It wasn’t me, Gerard. I swear to you.”

Gerard presses his hands to his face for a moment. His fingers are shaking. “I--” he gulps and tries again. “I shouldn’t have blamed you. I’m so sorry.”

Bert takes a few quick strides and pulls Gerard close, shaking his head. “Don’t, love, you have nothing to apologize for. I should never have stayed silent.”

Frank reaches out and gently runs his fingers through Gerard’s hair. “We’re really fucking glad you’re back, Bert. We missed you.”

Bert laces his fingers in Frank’s and squeezes. “I’m sorry it took so long. I needed to find out what happened before I resigned, and I wasn’t anticipating the level of resistance they held towards the truth. I missed the both of you, so much-- after they finally told me, we fought, and I left. I couldn’t stay, not when they cost me almost everything I loved.”

Gerard laughs shakily. “Shit, Bert. Did you really just tell the Archangels to screw themselves?”

“That was the general gist of it, yes.”

Gerard leans in and kisses Bert, biting down on his lower lip. “So…”

Bert chuckles. “So?”

He pulls back for a moment, eyes lighting up with his usual mischief. He attempts, quite obviously, to adopt an innocent tone. “So. Does that mean we get to screw now?”

Bert blinks at him. “I— I really shouldn’t have expected you to say anything else.”

Frank crowds up against Bert’s side, meeting Gerard’s eyes and dropping his lashes in a slow, playful wink. “I second the motion to screw.”

Bert closes his eyes, sighing. A hint of a barely suppressed smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Can we call it literally anything else, please? Having sex? Making love? I’d even take fucking, at this point?”

“I guess so, as long as we actually fuck?” Frank responds hopefully. 

Bert’s grin becomes even more poorly hidden. “Is that what you want, love?”

Frank nods quickly, and Bert’s hand slides into his hair.

“That’s what I want,” he manages. 

Bert’s fingers tighten in Frank’s hair. He beams at Frank and slowly walks him backwards, pressing him up against the wall. 

Frank gasps softly, the chill of the cinder blocks filtering through his shirt. In sharp contrast, Bert is warm against his chest, and he suddenly can’t form a coherent thought. 

“Baby,” Bert whispers, leaning in to mouth at Frank’s jaw. His teeth just barely scrape against the skin. 

Frank’s breath falters. “Yeah- yeah?”

Bert grins against his neck and drops a hand from his hair, reaching down to dig his fingers into Frank’s hip. “I wanted you so badly, while I was gone. Couldn’t stop thinking about touching you.”

Frank has to close his eyes briefly, overwhelmed. His skin feels like it's buzzing, sensation spiraling out from Bert’s fingertips. “Please,” he manages.

Bert nips at his jaw and pulls back. “Gerard, what do you think we should do?”

He can hear a smirk in Gerard’s voice as he responds, “I think we should show him how much we want him to be part of us.”

Frank draws in an abrupt, shaky breath. 

“Frank, love,” Bert murmurs, returning his mouth to Frank’s skin. “Would you be willing to step over to your bed?”

He nods, his hands flexing against Bert’s shoulders. “Yes.”

Bert gently tugs him away from the wall and guides him to the bed, pushing him to sit down. “Lie back, baby.”

Frank complies but pulls Bert down after him. “Fucking kiss me, please—”

Bert’s mouth crashes against his, his kisses newly desperate and deep. Frank wraps his arms around Bert’s neck and arches up, gasping into the kiss.

Gerard climbs onto the narrow dorm bunk beside them, reaching out to set a steadying hand on the wall. “You’re both so gorgeous.”

Frank drops an arm from Bert’s neck and fumbles out for Gerard’s free hand, needing to touch him so badly it hurts. “Please—” he breathes again, trembling.

“What do you want, love?” Gerard leans in to press a soft kiss to Frank’s shoulder. 

He gathers his nerve. “I want to watch the two of you, together. Then I want both of your hands. Please.”

Bert makes a soft noise and kisses Frank again, gentle and sweet. “Then that’s what you’ll get. Gerard, I—”

Gerard runs a hand down Bert’s side, grasping the hem of his shirt and tugging him close. “Fuck me?”

He bites back a groan, slowly pulling away from Frank. He grasps Gerard’s waist and leans in to kiss him, hard. Gerard gasps.

Frank scoots back up against the headboard, staring at the two of them. “It’s about time.”

Bert smiles and pushes Gerard down onto the mattress, straddling his hips. “It really is. Gee, baby, can I take your clothes off?”

“Only if I can return the favor.” Gerard sounds as breathless as Frank feels. 

Bert’s fingers make quick work of the buttons on Gerard’s shirt and then he’s tugging it off, mouthing at the newly exposed skin and undoing the fly of his pants. Gerard gasps again, reaching for Bert’s clothes.

Frank can’t take his eyes off of them.

Gerard’s fully nude and shivering less than a minute later, his hands working frantically to finish undressing Bert. They’re the most beautiful thing Frank’s ever seen.

“Frank, love, do you have any lube?” Bert murmurs, stroking Gerard’s sides. Gerard gasps and trembles.

“Yeah, fuck,” Frank leans over and fumbles with one of his bags, reemerging triumphant a few moments later with the lube clutched in his hand. “I haven’t used it. I mean— I don’t, like, not fuck. But I haven’t— uh, you know what I mean. It’s new.”

Bert gives him a ridiculously fond glance and takes the lube from him. “Don’t worry, love, I know what you mean. Will you kiss Gerard while I get him ready?”

Frank happily springs forward at Gerard’s intake of breath, kissing him hard. He can tell when Bert starts to prep him; Gerard stiffens and arches against him, letting out a tiny, desperate moan, and Frank strokes a soothing hand down his chest. Every movement of Bert’s fingers sparks some type of reaction, and every reaction causes Frank to grow harder in his stupid pajama pants. He never wants it to end.

Eventually, however, Bert touches Frank’s shoulder. “He’s ready, baby.”

And oh, that sounds good too. Frank immediately gives Gerard’s lower lip one last playful tug and moves away, his hands balling into fists at his side. He’s so fucking hard. 

Gerard looks dazed for a moment before his eyes clear. “Bert—”

Bert grabs Gerard’s hips, grinning down at him. His hands are shaking, just a bit. “You’re sure you want this?”

“So sure,” Gerard chokes. “Please, Bert—”

Bert kisses him once, briefly, and takes a deep breath before lining up and slowly pushing forward. “Oh—”

Gerard gasps and catches at the sheets, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “Oh, shit, shit, Bert—”

Frank can’t help himself; he has to lean in and touch Gerard, brushing eager, clumsy fingers over his neck and chest. “You’re so gorgeous,” he whispers. 

Gerard moans again, eyes shut tight. “Fuck, Bert, Frank, please—”

Bert takes a moment to just breathe, swallowing hard. “Are you - shit - are you okay, love? Can I move?”

“Yeah,” Gerard gasps, nodding frantically. “Please, move, need you.”

Bert unclenches one hand from Gerard’s side and touches Gerard’s cheek, his fingers brushing Frank’s. “Okay, baby. We’ve got you.” He slowly rolls his hips forward. 

Gerard’s breath catches. He lets out a soft moan, body going loose and pliant against the sheets. “Fuck—”

Frank runs his hand through Gerard’s hair, loving the way he pushes against it. He presses a kiss to Bert’s muscled shoulder, brushing his lips over the slight sheen of sweat building on the skin. “You’re both so perfect.”

“Please,” Gerard says again, desperate. “Fuck me, Bert, I need - _oh_ \- more—”__

Bert acquiesces, pushing Gerard’s legs wider and snapping his hips forward. They both moan simultaneously; Bert strained and low, Gerard eager and breathy. “Look at you, baby, you’re so hot,” Bert says, breath shaking in his throat. “Is this good?”

Gerard nods, fumbling around in the sheets with his right hand. Frank catches it and he clings. “So good—”

Frank has to take a minute to just watch. Watch Gerard’s white-knuckled hand in his, watch him writhe and shake against the mattress, his mouth falling open in a nearly silent gasp, watch Bert’s mouth unconsciously echo Gerard’s, back arching and flexing as he fucks ever harder into Gerard. Watch their thighs pressing together, watch Gerard’s dick rub up against Bert’s stomach. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

“Please,” Gerard moans, squeezing Frank’s hand harder. “Need your hand, baby, please.”

Frank shoots a brief glance at Bert. When he nods, he reaches between them and wraps his fingers around Gerard’s cock. It’s already leaking in his hand, and Gerard gasps out.

“Yeah—”

“Come for us,” Bert murmurs, his movements growing more erratic as he tries to hold back. “Come on, love, I’m almost there.”

Gerard fucking whines, and Frank just has to lean down to nip at his throat. “Just like that,” he whispers, mouth against his skin. “Just like that, Gerard.”

He fucks up into Frank’s grasp, once, twice more, then stiffens and cries out. He comes over Frank’s fingers in a wash of heat. 

“Oh—” Bert breaks off, stifling a moan. He thrusts forward a few more times before slumping over Gerard’s stomach, trembling and gasping. His hips slowly still.

Frank runs his hands over both of them, unable to look away. “You’re both just so beautiful.”

Gerard tugs Bert up and kisses him, soft and easy. “Hey, baby.”

Bert, for the first time since Frank’s met him, looks completely at peace. “Hey, my love. Are you okay?”

“Completely,” Gerard confirms. “You?”

Bert grins at him, nodding. “I’m wonderful. Will you do me a favor, baby? Hold Frank down on the bed for me.”

Frank’s neglected dick throbs even harder at Bert’s words. He barely has time to gasp before Gerard’s on him, all loose, sweaty limbs and big smiles, pinning him to the mattress and kissing the shit out of him. He sucks in a huge breath of air as soon as Gerard pulls away.

“Move over a bit,” Bert instructs, gently pushing Gerard to the side and kneeling over Frank. Gerard attaches himself to Frank’s side, clinging much like an octopus. Frank tries not to laugh. 

“What do you want from us, love?” Bert asks quietly, brushing his fingers over Frank’s stomach.

“Just your hand,” Frank responds breathlessly, leaning his head against Gerard’s shoulder. “While he holds me. I need to feel both of you.”

Gerard kisses him again quickly and laces their fingers together, laying his other arm over Frank’s chest. “Okay, baby.”

Bert smiles at them, leaning in and finally — finally — getting his hand around Frank’s dick. He gasps and bucks up into Bert’s grasp, seeing stars. 

“Fuck, I—”

Bert slowly starts to move his hand, his grip firm. “Talk to me, baby. How do you like it?”

“Yeah, just like that, shit…” Frank trails off, overwhelmed and trembling. “Just like— ohhhh—”

It burns slightly at first, the friction nearly more than he can take, but the slide quickly becomes easier, slick and smooth. Frank bites down hard on his lower lip, panting. “Oh, shit—”

“You’re so hot,” Bert whispers, his eyes wide and awed. “I’m the luckiest being in the universe.”

Frank laughs, the sound faltering as Bert does something particularly clever with his wrist. “Oh—”

Bert leans in to mouth at his neck, teeth catching and dragging. “Gorgeous.”

The callouses on Bert’s fingers are just this side of too rough, and his thumb catches in just the right way with every stroke, and Frank can’t breathe. “Oh, oh— Bert—”

Gerard places a hand on the side of Frank’s face and kisses him, hard and distracting, and it’s just enough to keep Frank from tipping over the edge. He clings to them, one hand around Bert’s neck, the other digging into Gerard’s shoulder, and tries to last.

“You’re stunning, baby, look at you,” Bert whispers, voice ragged. “You’re just so pretty.”

Gerard pulls back to catch his breath. “So fucking hard for us, love, come on.”

Frank attempts to hold back, but his thighs are already trembling and the warmth in his gut is coiling tighter. “I—”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Bert coaxes, steadily increasing the pace of his hand. “Let us watch you, baby. Come for us.”

He lets out a sobbing moan, arching against them. “Yeah, yeah, ‘m gonna—”

Gerard bites down on Frank’s shoulder, and he’s done for. His hips buck wildly and his vision whites out as he comes, hard and throbbing, shaking to pieces between them. Bert strokes him through it, murmuring soft encouragements. 

“So good for us,” Gerard whispers again, pressing his lips to the teeth marks he left behind.

Frank’s eyes flutter closed. Bert’s body is solid and warm beside him, Gerard pressed up against his side, his hot hands stroking Frank’s flushed skin. He lets out a wordlessly content noise and tips his head onto Gerard’s shoulder, panting quietly. Everything is still and soft and safe.

Gerard leaves a row of his tingling kisses over Frank’s forehead and temple. He smiles and angles up to meet his lips as Bert reaches for a corner of the sheet and lazily swipes it across the mess of come and sweat slowly drying on his stomach. 

“You okay, love?” Bert murmurs, rubbing Frank’s side. 

“So fucking okay.” 

Gerard stretches out and trails his fingers through Bert’s hair. “So-- you’re here for good, right? You won’t leave again?”

“Never. What about you?”

He shrugs. “I’m expendable, remember? The Deceiver never got my final report. I’m dead as far as He’s concerned.”

“Not expendable,” Frank interjects, kissing the corner of Gerard’s mouth. “Not to us.”

He smiles into the kiss. “I’m staying here. You’re both stuck with me forever.”

“Good.” Bert sounds sincere, his face soft and open. “Gerard, I really am just so sorry for everything that’s happened. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” Gerard whispers. “Me too.”

“I’m never letting you go again.”

Frank grins at them, pushing himself up and tugging Bert in for a kiss. “I can’t wait to tell everyone I have two boyfriends. My mom’ll have a fucking fit.”

“Eh, she’ll get over it. Unless you tell her I’m a demon. I doubt she’d be able to handle that.”

“No outing you as a demon,” Frank agrees solemnly. “Got it. Hey-- what happens as I start aging, though? Won’t she notice when the two of you stay young and gorgeous?”

Gerard shoots a sly grin at Bert. “Should we tell him?”

Frank pokes Gerard’s chest. “You’d better fucking tell me. I swear to god I’ll tell my mom about you if you don’t.”

Bert chuckles, smoothing his palm over Frank’s chest. “It’s a phenomenon that’s been well documented by our scholars. Any human that spends their time being, well, indisposed--”

“He means fucking,” Gerard helpfully inserts.

“--with either a demon or an angel takes on many of their characteristics. You won’t age. Not while you’re with us.”

The thought sends a thrill through Frank’s veins. “You’re serious? I’m fucking immortal? For real?”

“Well-- immortal isn’t technically the correct term. Like us, you can still be killed. But it won’t be because of your age.”

“Sweet.” Frank grins widely and kisses him again. “You’ve turned me into a regular Bella Swan, you know that?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he chuckles, pulling Gerard closer. “I’ll have all the time in the world to explain pop culture to you later. Right now, I want you to fuck me.”

Gerard makes a strangled sound and lunges forward to connect their mouths. From above them, Bert laughs and leans down to kiss them both. 

Frank pulls away. “Shit.”

“Mm?”

“They’re gonna give me a new roommate for my senior year. That’s going to fucking suck.”

“We could probably meddle in that,” Bert muses. “I’m sure Gerard could scare them off.”

Gerard laughs, loud and adorable, and Frank grins as he lets Bert pull him back down to the mattress to lose themselves in another bruising kiss.


End file.
